


Dancing in the Dark

by RawPrincess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Bisexual Hermione Granger, Black Hermione Granger, F/F, Femslash, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Lesbian Andromeda Black, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Ridiculous, Time Travel, riddikulus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RawPrincess/pseuds/RawPrincess
Summary: Andromeda's hands were braced on the sink behind Hermione. Their thighs were pressed together."How long ago was that?" Hermione asked, instead of saying she was sorry or melting into a puddle like she wanted to do. She refused to be sidetracked."Twenty or so years, since you ask. Or maybe it never happened, something tells me you don't have the answers." Andromeda was close to her now, too close. She could reach forward and wash her hands in the basin Hermione was leaning against if she really wanted to."I meant for you, how long did it take you to find me? Through all of space and time?"Time travel, and telenovela plot twists ahead.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Andromeda Black Tonks
Comments: 7
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing Hermione noticed was the tangle of sheets trapping her feet. She pretended it didn't bother her, even though there was only herself to fool. Four nights in a row she had woken up like this. Eyes eventually opening when her crimson quilt wouldn't allow her to toss and turn anymore.

Terrible things happen to those who meddle with time. She sighed, and pressed her face further into her pillow. Surely she would fall back asleep.

Circulation was cut off from her foot, and she gave up. She reached for her wand under her pillow.

"Relashio," she whispered, the bed released her, she climbed to her feet. She took her wand, and crept out into the peace of the warmly lit hall. She pressed her cheek to the dormitory door as she closed it, taking comfort in the worn wood.

What the school had allowed her to do in her third year was wrong. They may as well have given her cocaine, so that she could have the energy to take some extra classes. It was a catastrophe waiting to happen. It wasn't until two years on that she had really started to experience the trauma.

She had travelled in time to save Sirius Black, but he'd still died. It was as though all that she had accomplished using the Time Turner had tipped a scale, and the world was going to right itself. It filled her with dread, and when she thought of Sirius, guilt. It felt like a debt that she wracked up, but she wasn't the one paying it.

She pushed away from the door, and took another step into the corridor. There was a white candle flickering cheerfully in a bracket on the wall across from her. It sputtered, and was blown out as if by an invisible wind. The shadows deepened. Hermione narrowed her eyes accusingly at the smoking wick, and flinched at a creaking in the gloom.

"Aparecium," she said, pointing her wand in the direction of the disturbance. There was a clunk, as though something had fallen off of a table.

"Lumos." Her wand flooded the hall with light, and revealed a drawer blown out from a teetering stand. A streak of colour burst forth from the drawer, and a girl emerged. A bushy-haired thirteen year old Hermione Granger. Her older, pajama-clad counterpart hesitated at the sight of her worn-out past-self. The doppelganger walked briskly over to her.

The younger girl pulled a fine gold chain from under her jumper, and Hermione's gut clenched with fear. The sight of the girl may have been a shock, but the object she was now brandishing encouraged Hermione to hold her wand at the ready.

There had to be an explanation for this. Hermione stumbled back as the distance closed between them. She wanted to call out, but what if her younger self had somehow travelled forward in time? What if she was standing in the corridor for a reason? These thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind when the _other_ Hermione lifted the Time Turner over her head, and lunged forward.

"Stop!" Hermione said, as the _other_ tried to lasso her with the chain. She was increasingly aware of her heart in her chest, the weary state of her mind made the strange moment stranger. Suddenly, despite the fear and the exhaustion, Hermione realised what was going on. She lifted her wand:

"Riddikulus!" Hermione aimed squarely for the Boggart's chest, just as the creature managed to wrangle her with the chain. The creature flinched, and shifted so that a gaunt Sirius Black stood before her, dressed as a prisoner once more.

The illusion was horribly convincing; she could smell the gunk matted into his hair. The Boggart was so much taller than her now it had no trouble pushing the Time Turner down completely over head. The _other_ Sirius then lifted the small charm, and flicked it. Hermione's mouth fell open, the hourglass span rapidly. She shook her head, and pushed the dead man off of her. She tried to pull the Time Turner off but the room was spinning, this couldn't work, could it?

* * *

Andromeda stirred her soup robotically. Five years she had been attending Hogwarts, and only last week did she spot the love of her life, and it was a bloody woman. She'd avoided seeking her out since the night in the library. She'd resisted for three days, but she'd seen her again in the Astronomy Tower that morning, and she'd felt like she was in a trance ever since.

She scanned the Hufflepuff table with all the subtlety she could, but being sly wasn't her strong suit. If she was in Slytherin for any reason it wasn't because of her sneakiness, it was her drive. Her determination. She only wished that she could want someone appropriate, instead of this… this mess.

"You're going to need a house elf to shove your eyes back into your skull." Sirius had made his way over to her.

"And you're going to need a dozen to remove your head from your arse." Sirius smiled warmly at her harsh remark, and nudged her with his elbow.

"Woah, tetchy."

"Should you really be over here?" she asked.

"At the Ravenclaw table? No, I suppose not." Andromeda raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not— oh Merlin." Andromeda looked around, and met the eyes of a puzzled looking boy in blue across the table. Sirius shrugged at him. She was about to melt into a pile of mortified goop, when _she_ walked into the hall.

"I came over to check if you'd been confunded." Sirius waved a hand in front of her face, Andromeda grabbed his hand, and dragged it out of her line of vision to see the bushy-haired dream girl.

"Maybe I have." Sirius snorted, and joined her in observing the Hufflepuff miracle.

"That's that Hufflepuff that was caught wandering around the girls dormitory in the middle of the night last week."

"Hardly odd, considering she's a girl."

"Something you've clearly come to appreciate," Sirius said, lowering his voice.

"Shut up." The girl in question was walking hesitantly over to the Hufflepuff table, as if she were expecting an ambush. "Do you know her?"

"Her name's Jean, I think. Anyway, it was strange because it was the girls dormitory in Gryffindor tower. The boys reckon she was up there for more than makeup tips, if you know what I mean." He nudged her again.

"It wouldn't be the first time I heard a rumour like that." Her cousin narrowed his eyes, and then grinned.

"Oi, Jean!" he shouted across the hall, and the girl froze halfway into her chair. She stood up straight, and turned slowly. She looked very nervous, and very beautiful.

"Hi?" she asked, her voice was quiet, but it carried. Despite the dark colour of her skin, it was clear that she was flushed with colour. It seemed as though she was searching for the source of the voice at the Gryffindor table.

"Over here!" She found them then, and her eyes widened. She spotted Sirius, and then found Andromeda, no doubt painted sixty shades of pink. Damnitall. Sirius gestured at _Jean_ to come over. She didn't: she smiled politely, turned her back, and sat down. Her eyes had been dark, and fierce.

"She seems a bit shy to be creeping into bed with Marlene McKinnon in the middle of the night."

"McKinnon?" Jean didn't seem so shy.

"What's it to you?"

"You're such a gossip."

* * *

The bathroom on the second floor was deserted as usual, one nice addition being that even Myrtle seemed to have abandoned it for the evening. Hermione almost cried with relief at the extent of the solitude. She had been speaking with Dumbledore again, the only person she had allowed herself to reveal anything to. She moved over to the window, and scowled out over the lake.

She had to get back before she made a horrible mistake, or any sort of mistake. She had been down this road before, but at least then she had had a purpose, or instructions from Dumbledore. Even with those things the results of what she had done had filled her with regret. She hadn't done enough, she'd failed. When she saw everyone here, knowing what she knew was torture. The temptation was too much to take, God help her, she just wanted to give in.

The Headmaster refused to say it, but it was obvious that he would welcome some information from her. He knew better, but he clearly hungered for it. They both did, the exchange of knowledge, the prevention of bloodshed. _Harry_. She was so lonely.

This was why she needed to be alone, and remain alone. Dumbledore had given her access to any relevant books he could find, and was reasonable enough to do some research on her behalf. They would get her home; if she had to find that Boggart, and personally strangle it, she'd get home.

She thought maybe she could end all of this, if she could just let go of her fear. Wherever that creature was, she was still bonded to it. She needed joy to break away. If she could only laugh she might stop feeding it, but all that she felt when she looked at the people here was helplessness, and dread. When they smiled at her, she froze. It was a cage of thought, if she could only think her way out.

Do something that would force the penny to drop. She was so scared to fail again, and there was nothing about it that amused her.

* * *

The Slytherin common room was packed to the gills, and everyone was in high spirits as they chatted about the upcoming match. Andromeda was not in the mood for any of it. Truthfully, she was a bit miserable. She wandered out of the dungeon, and made her way up to the library.

The library was empty aside from bloody Jean, who had her gorgeous head buried in a bloody book. Andromeda hesitated in the door of the library, like a racing Hippogriff waiting for the hatch to open.

She could not go over there.

She could not pursue a woman.

She had to marry a Zabini or a Malfoy, and give birth to his heir and a spare.

There was no room for feelings like these. For mistakes.

She shouldn't be fixing her long, dark hair, she shouldn't be biting the red back into her lips, she shouldn't be trying to read the title of the girl's book from a distance, so that she could think of something clever to say. She knew better.

She walked over, tugging at the hem of her skirt, and then paused, and pretended to be looking at a book discarded on a desk nearby.

Jean looked at her then. She seemed startled at the interruption, but she didn't shy away. Andromeda knew she shouldn't. She was already in enough trouble with her parents for trying her best. Salazar forbid she should allow herself to do her worst.

She decided the library was off limits for the night. Andromeda knew herself, she was too impulsive to be left alone with Jean. She balled her hands into fists, and left.

* * *

Hermione eyed the girl from a well concealed corner in the entrance hall, where she sat reading about Time Turners and their uncommon uses. This girl was the reason she wasn't nestled away in the library. When Hermione had seen her earlier in the week, she had been sure it was Bellatrix Black, but looking at her now she felt a rush of relief. She had been mistaken.

It wouldn't do for her to have caught Bellatrix's attention. Hermione smiled softly as the Slytherin girl stood, and contemplated the bannister. After a quick glance around she hopped onto it, and slid down at top speed. She didn't cry-out, instead she gasped softly, before clattering to the bottom. She managed to stay on her feet, but only just. Hermione was surprised when her smile widened. She was _very_ glad to discover this wasn't Bellatrix.

The Slytherin girl bit the tip of her tongue, as she plaited her dark hair at the bottom of the stairs. Hermione felt a rush of nostalgia when she remembered that Sirius shared the habit, and Tonks as well. Tonks, of course!

"Andromeda!" Hermione exclaimed to herself, but the hall was nearly empty, and the name practically ricocheted around them. Andromeda's eyes found her instantly, her heavy lids made her expression sultry even in confusion.

"Jean?" she asked, as if she couldn't believe it. Hermione gaped like a fish, and then for some reason said:

"I'm fine." Andromeda's hands fell away from her hair. Something passed between them. Hermione imagined this is what it felt like to stare into the eyes of a bull: inevitable.

Andromeda smiled widely, looking every bit like she was about to throw caution to the wind. As though she intended to close the space between them, and ask 'Jean' about that rumour going around that she liked girls.

"Okay," Andromeda said, and the spell broke. When Andromeda abruptly turned, and walked out the castle doors, Hermione immediately wished that she'd done something, and then thanked God that she hadn't.

* * *

Andromeda was following her. Hermione had tested it a few times. First Andromeda would spot her, and smile, and say:

"Jean." Like it was a bad word, like she had her own rules about this, and she was breaking them too. Then Hermione would nod, and take a pointless route that led them both back to where they'd met. Andromeda would always be there, and the spell would be cast, and then she'd leave, and it would break.

Hermione tried to tell herself that it was annoying, that the only reason she didn't confront the girl was because it was dangerous, but a part of her knew that this little game of cat-and-mouse was keeping her going.

She was so isolated, and even though these almost interactions were dangerous for both of them, Andromeda was starting to feel like a friend. A strange, predatory friend who was unwittingly putting the future of the wizarding world in jeopardy, but also someone who, well, looked at her.

Hermione knew she should be scared, but Andromeda was exciting, and oddly flirtatious. So Hermione did the unthinkable: she smiled back, she waited out in the open to be found, and she tried to lead Andromeda, whether she could admit it or not.

* * *

Andromeda stood in the Owlery, quill and parchment in hand, at a total loss. Andromeda's Mother had sent a letter about a holiday she was planning with Andromeda's Aunt Walburga. They were going to Paris and wanted to see how she was doing and if she wanted anything. It was one of the nicer letters Andromeda had received from home, and she should've been able to take pleasure in it, but it instead it just filled her with guilt. She rubbed impatiently at her eyes which burned a little. She wanted to respond in kind, write something that would encourage her Mother's affection for her but she was so ashamed she couldn't shape a thought.

She felt a bizarre desire to confess, to seek comfort or advice. Maybe even just to have the sense jinxed into her and get it over with. But truthfully, the path she was headed down now would take more than a stinging hex to fix. What was she doing?

Worst of all she felt pressure to respond quickly, because even though she knew it shouldn't be a factor it was coming up to the time she usually went to meet Jean and she hadn't seen her kind eyes all day. Andromeda should be focusing on her duty to her family, not following a girl who was almost certainly muggleborn like some kind of stray dog. A girl who was clearly determined to keep her distance.

"Oh, uhm." Speak of the devil.

"Jean," Andromeda said, putting the quill down on the ledge and smiling. It amused Andromeda every time, it was thrilling and ridiculous how they were carrying on together. How Jean would make the first move over and over, like rereading the first chapter of a book.

Jean nodded as if to acknowledge her like any other passerby, and turned to leave as if seeing Andromeda wasn't all she came to do. Andromeda was about to throw her stuff in her bag so they walk alone.. together, when Jean paused in the door frame. This was different.

"Are you alright?" Jean asked without turning back to face her, and Andromeda's eyes just about bugged out of her head.

"Oh Jean, first you're breaking their rules, and now ours?" Andromeda teased, flirting aloud for the first time among the owl droppings. At least they were alone.

"Our rules?" Jean shrugged. "They're just an extension of everyone else's."

"Do I look awful or something?" Andromeda asked, smoothing her hair which admittedly was a little windswept from the stairs on the way up.

"You know how you look," Jean said, turning it seemed just to roll her eyes. Then the Hufflepuff was looking at Andromeda for the second time in a row which didn't happen often, and she was looking closely. "You've heard something from home?" She asked after a beat, getting to the heart of the issue in a moments scrutiny. Andromeda blanched, unused to speaking openly with people outside of her house or family.

"Yes, just normal family news, nothing bad. What was it you were saying about me being good looking?" Andromeda tried to play it off, not wanting to discuss her family now that she and Jean were actually _talking._

"I didn't— They've upset you," Jean stated, stepping toward Andromeda for a change. Andromeda momentarily felt an absurd desire to step back, as if her ancestors had tied an invisible rope around her and were trying to drag her back on course. Jean paused at arms length and glanced rather obviously at the blank parchment between them on the ledge.

"No. Not really, nosy," Andromeda said, reaching out and pulling the unwritten letter toward as if it was some private important document. She immediately regretted the bite in her tone. Jean lifted her chin sternly.

"You're not upset?" She asked, almost business like and Andromeda rubbed at her eye self-consciously.

"No," Andromeda insisted, sounding upset.

"So, you haven't been crying?" Jean pressed, her voice softer.

"I wasn't actually," Andromeda said, looking away, so confused and mortified at the thought that she might actually start crying now, in front of Jean. "I was just welling up a bit."

"What did they say to you?!" Jean asked, with some urgency, her hand finding it's way onto the flare of her hip and Andromeda's eye following it.

"My Mother said she'd pick me up something from Paris," Andromeda said, crossing her arms over her chest blank parchment in hand. "And they sent their love," she whispered to the ground, and Merlin help her, her voice caught and her eyelids were hot with tears as she closed her eye against them. It was in the same breath that Jean was on her, pulling her so close and tight it felt like being hugged by someone much bigger. Someone big enough to keep her safe, and that thought alone was enough to break down what was left of Andromeda's reserve because it felt _so_ good to be held by her. So right, and that didn't stop it from being wrong. She didn't want to face how wrong it was. She didn't want to turn away from the safety of Jean's coy dance to face it. "I just miss them," she mumbled into Jean's jumper.

Jean nodded, but there must've been something in her that couldn't accept this explanation, because while Andromeda tried and failed to pull herself together Jean said: "Is that all?" In a tight voice that sounded like it was trying to stop the words forming even as they were spoken.

"I really like you," Andromeda blurted, still hidden in her shoulder. In that moment the desire to get her feelings out over road her desire to keep them in and she felt more confused then ever as she was rushed with relief and excitement and embarrassment. "Sorry," she choked.

"No, I— Thanks," Jean replied, and a tentative hand touched the back of Andromeda's head. Gently, Jean carded her fingers through Andromeda's hair.

"I can't stop myself liking you, but I'm not a— I can't like you."

"I understand," Jean muttered, but Andromeda felt the need to explain anyway.

"It's just that things are going well with my family right now, and it's probably just because Bella's finished school and she's living at home." Miraculously Andromeda managed to pull away then, leaning back against the ledge and taking a deep breath. Jean sat beside her, and after a moments hesitation reached out to rub her arm.

"Bella's your sister?" Jean asked and Andromeda sighed.

"Yes, and she's like this perfect, loyal daughter. She never fucks up, this would never happen to her. She's so powerful, she makes Cissy and me look like a pair of Squibs so usually they don't write to me. But all of the things that make Bella their golden girl can't change the fact that she's completely unbearable to live with."

Then for the first time Andromeda heard Jean laugh, and it seemed to make the ground shake. It was all Andromeda wanted to hear her laugh again. "Sorry," she said, grinning ruefully, and restraining herself. "She sounds like a pain, I guess you feel bad about uhm... well, making friends with someone your family might not approve of when things are going well."

"Right," Andromeda said, blowing out a shaky breath. "My Mother would never usually get me a gift for no reason, you know? I just... I feel like I'm letting her down, and then I hate myself for feeling that way Jean, because your fantastic and it's them. They have a problem, not you. I'm letting myself down just for thinking that way."

"But they're your family."

Andromeda hid her face in her hands, and shook her head. She was going to say it, but she couldn't get the words out. That if her family knew her, really knew her, they wouldn't love her. It was true they were her family, but for how long?

* * *

After that Hermione tried to stay away. She felt foolish for underestimating how much turmoil being involved with a woman, in however tame a sense, could cause for someone in Andromeda's position. Plus Hermione knew Andromeda's daughter, Andromeda was destined to have a family of her own, and eventually escape the fanaticism of her upbringing without _Jean_ having any part in it.

But with all of that in mind, it had only been three days and Hermione had missed their walks desperately. Missed _her_ desperately. She should have more sense than this, she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, pleading with herself not to let her emotions get the best of her. She wished she hadn't stopped to talk to her, her husky voice whispering into her hair. Pale eyes searching.

* * *

It was chance the next time they met, and it was with some frost in her tone that Andromeda greeted her. She probably didn't take to being avoided as Hermione had been camping out in the Hufflepuff common room.

"Jean," she said, like a dismissal. Hermione, of course, nodded and walked on. For some strange reason she actually believed for a moment that Andromeda wouldn't follow her, but of course, didn't she always?

Hermione led her out to the freshly reaped pumpkin patch, eventually stopping in the middle. Breaking their rules for the second time, Hermione stood among the freshly cut stems. Andromeda stood on the other end of Hermione's trodden path. She had stopped at the gate, and was partially concealed by a naked tree.

"You're following me." Andromeda stepped out into what was left of the evening light. The wind rustled her hair, and she was smiling like she was keeping a wonderful secret.

"You don't go to any classes," she said, instead of responding to the accusation.

"Not with you."

"Not at all."

"Are you going to tell on me?"

"Jean." This time, when she said her 'name', it was like a confession. "It's like you don't know me at all."

"I don't know you at all." Andromeda bent, and plucked a wilting flower from the base of the tree. She twirled it at the stem between her fingers.

"But I know you." She took a step forward. "You're like me, trying to follow the rules, and break them at the same time. Dancing around it. Around this."

"This?" The spell was cast. Inevitable, Andromeda was doing it; walking toward her, fussing with her glossy hair. Flirting like her life depended on it.

"Us, or is there something else that you're afraid of? I wonder what's stopping you though, it's obvious what's stopping me. Look at me." Hermione did. She had stopped a foot away. Hermione made a show of measuring her up. She reached out, and ran one hand over the edge of Andromeda's cloak, as if to straighten it. Her hand shook. This was madness.

"Like we discussed, pretty, white Purebloods have... duties," Hermione said.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? You think I want that?" Andromeda asked, reaching up to hold Hermione's hand on her label.

"I know you don't want that, but it doesn't matter what we want. It doesn't change anything." For some reason Hermione didn't pull her hand away.

"We?"

"I... these are just feelings, alright? There bigger things going on in the world right now than our feelings." Andromeda tapped her nose with the flower.

" _Our_ feelings?" She quizzed, raising an eyebrow and grinning wickedly.

"Shut your mouth," Hermione warned.

"Or what? You'll shut it for me?" Andromeda was very close to her now, she seemed to be transforming into that bull before Hermione's very eyes, all of the doubt of the last few days paling in the face of her tenacity. It shouldn't have been so alluring.

"You said yourself you can't like me, we can't—"

 _"_ Agreed, I think to myself: smart, sexy, mysterious, thinks I'm pretty. Who would give up the chance to be a part of a three hundred year old cycle of inbreeding, and violence, just for that?" Hermione laughed despite herself, and the sensation was so unfamiliar it shocked her. It was almost dizzying.

"We should stop," she protested, smiling. Andromeda held Hermione's hand over her heart, and passed her the blue flower. Hermione took it, and admired it's papery petals.

"I don't care if there's a big clock over our heads Jean. I just wanted a moment with you." Andromeda leaned a little closer, and despite the utter bravado of the come on, Hermione's breath caught.

"That doesn't sound so frightening," Hermione sighed, drinking up the space between them as it disappeared and feeling it cloud her mind like an opiate.

"Speak for yourself," Andromeda laughed right against her lips. "I'm terrified."

When Andromeda kissed her, she was amazed that it still felt so unexpected. She moved almost like she'd been startled, but when she felt the satin of Andromeda's skin under her fingers she remembered how this kiss was a foregone conclusion. Hermione melted that bit closer, and just let everything go as she clung to her. She should've known she couldn't outrun Andromeda, she should've admitted sooner that she didn't want to.

After a moment Andromeda pulled away, it seemed, just to grin at her. Hermione felt the odd desire to hide her blushing face. A small pleased noise found it's way out of her throat, and before she knew it she was giggling for nerves, and relief, and _she's kissing me, she's kissing me, she's kissing me._

Then Andromeda was kissing her cheeks, and her nose, and her eyelids, and her mouth again, and Hermione couldn't stop laughing. She had her.

"Jean!" Andromeda said, and she spoke as if to remind her that there wasn't a frightening thing in the world, and Hermione believed her. She couldn't stop smiling, after so many weeks of wallowing. They laughed, and kissed, until Hermione thought she would burst.

* * *

The stars began to peek out in the still pale night sky, and Hermione wasn't afraid, not even when the pumpkin patch started spinning. In fact she hardly noticed, until she stood alone in the dead of night. Holding the last blue aster flower of an Autumn which had faded twenty years before.


	2. Inevitable

Standing in the pumpkin patch, Hermione could tell immediately from slight changes in her environment that she was back where she belonged. Everything from the grot on the back of Hagrid's cabin, to the state of the worn path to the Thestral patch in the forest that had been walked out by Luna Lovegood in passing months, told her that she was back in her own time atlast, and alone.

Spinning the small blue plant in her fingers, Hermione did some quick maths and worked out that the now married Andromeda was twenty five years older than her, give or take. She dropped the flower like it scolded her skin, and prepared to turn on her heel and rush back up to the castle. But as quick as she had let go, she bent and lifted the precious thing back up. She was filled with a raging mixture of emotions. On unsteady feet she began to retrace the path she had led Andromeda down all those years ago, terrified at what she might discover once she reached the top. She hoped desperately that she hadn't caused any major damage, her stomach twisted in a knot at the thought and she picked up the pace.

When she was nearer the entrance she paused, judging by the moon high over head it was well past curfew, hopefully on the same night of her disappearance. In case she was walking into a place drastically different, Hermione cast a disillusionment charm over herself, and silenced her footsteps. After the distracting sensation of the charm had trickled past her ankles, and with utmost care, she crept up the castle steps and pushed open the door to the main entrance. There were other ways into the castle of course, but the Gryffindor in her schooled her to hide in plain sight. Once she closed the heavy door behind her, she turned and closed her eyes in a moment of silent gratitude. Flames burned low in torches lining the walls, filling the hall with enough light for her night-blasted pupils to make out the familiar room. So far, all was as she left it. The surest sign was the set of hourglasses over head. The points the houses had earned to win the cup were all represented on large counters, and she noted with a sigh of relief that the distribution was the same as she remembered it being before. Feeling hopeful, Hermione made it to the stair case without incident and smiled at the memory of watching Andromeda play on the old banister.

Moving soundlessly Hermione placed her invisible feet over the spot Andromeda had landed and turned to face the spot she herself had been concealed when she had recognised her. Her face which had been stinging with the cold after her midnight walk up to the castle was now over warm. She blamed the torches burning nearby. Cursing herself even as she felt the flutter in her chest. Part of her foolishly desired to jump about shouting _she likes me_ , as if there was anything to be done about it, as if the crush who had just kissed her wasn't locked away in the past where she belonged.

Pressing her lips into a tight line Hermione rolled her eyes at her own preposterous behaviour, and tiptoed up the stairs. Hermione wasn't even of age, she was in no position to pursue a forty something year old Andromeda Black, to whom she must be no more than a distant childhood sweetheart. Andromeda had probably come to think of Jean the Hufflepuff as some kind of apparition or a teenage wet dream. Perhaps Dumbledore had even been so kind as to erase the memories of the students once she was gone. After all he had cast a fairly strong confundus charm on the Hufflepuff house when initially introducing to their dormitory. More likely again, Hermione had never truly moved back in time and that was just one hell of a Boggartmare.

She made it to the Gryffindor common room, and whispered the password which was accepted. Smiling, she stepped inside. How does anyone beat a Boggart? Hardly any magic involved at all. She had just laughed, truly laughed, and before she knew it: she was home.

* * *

When Hermione lay in bed, the flower safely pressed in the book at her bedside and the familiar sound of her classmates sleeping around her, Hermione thought again of Andromeda. Andromeda who had been her only comfort for so long. When she had been lost in time, it had made sense to think of the girl each night before sleeping. She was the closest thing Hermione had to a companion, and a welcome if not questionable distraction. Now that Hermione was home she ought to turn her mind to other things, all of the responsibilities which she had fought so hard to get back to. There was so much left to do.

* * *

Terrified that something she had done in the past might've overturned everything, Hermione was was elated to see each familiar face as her first morning home wore on. Every ordinary thing took her breath away, the more ordinary the better.

"Seamus!" Hermione cried, throwing her arms around the Irish boy and holding him at arms length in the next instant to get a proper look at him. "Have you grown?" She asked, and he adopted the expression between concern and amusement she had been seeing all morning.

"I doubt that I have since yesterday," he replied, catching Fred Weasley's eye from where he stood behind her.

"Don't mind her Seamus, she's just feeling sentimental," Fred informed the confused lad, and George appeared from no where to sling an arm around Hermione.

"She's been waiting at the end of the dormitory stairs and squealing all morning," George added, and Hermione pushed him away still grinning.

"I have not," she chided, but then Harry appeared. "Harry! You're up," she _may_ have squealed. He grinned down at her, as much as he adored his friend and her honesty, and wit, it was rare for him to see her looking so _enthusiastic_ over nothing.

"What's gotten into you?" even as he asked, Hermione came bounding up the stairs. She pulled him into a tight hug before he'd reached the second step, rewarding him with a mouth full of Hermione's signature fro which seemed to have grown over night.

"You shouldn't smile at her," George chastised.

"You're risking an aneurysm," Fred said, shaking his head.

"Hopeless," they said together, greatly anticipating Ron's entrance. They had been enjoying the spectacle all morning.

* * *

After the excitement of greeting Gryffindor house had passed, Hermione had managed to vent enough enthusiasm to face going to breakfast. As the students entered the Great Hall Hermione spoke energetically to her friends about this and that, only pausing when Luna walked in. Hermione nearly knocked over Harry's pumpkin juice in her haste to wave brightly at Luna. The dreamy Ravenclaw waved vaguely back, as if such a thing happened everyday and the two of them didn't spend eighty percent of their conversations at odds.

"Alright Hermione, not that it's not lovely to see you in such a good mood, but that's the third time you've nearly knocked something over to greet someone this morning. Care to explain what it is that you're so happy about?" Ron asked, so absorbed in Hermione's strange behaviour he'd only made it through one course of breakfast.

"Maybe she's in love," Ginny joked, elbowing Hermione, and at that the light behind Hermione's smile fell. Leaving her bright expression to slip away like an odd echo.

"I love you all," Hermione said eventually, her tone taking on a new layer of sentimentality. Harry, typically awkward about emotional situations that didn't involve imminent danger, patted her arm uselessly.

"Thanks Hermione," he said, and Hermione felt utterly grateful for his rubbish effort. Ginny elbowed her again.

"Prat," the youngest Weasley scoffed, smiling warmly. Hermione rolled her eyes, and thanked the stars again that everything was just as she left it. When the door to the Great Hall opened she glanced over to see if it was Neville who had yet to make it downstairs for his patented _I didn't destroy your existence when I traveled in time and I missed you_ greeting, but it wasn't Neville.

"No," Hermione whispered, watching as _she_ walked in, dressed in blue silk with a smile on her sultry face. A boy was on her left, also dressed in Beauxbaton robes, but he looked completely unfamiliar.

"Did you forget about the exchange?" Ginny asked, gauging the confused expression on her friend's face.

"What?" Hermione asked, attempting to school her features and failing miserably.

"This is the term that Blaise and Cho are going to France, and we're taking the Beauxbaton students. I still don't know why they didn't send you instead of her, although of course I'd much rather you stayed," Ginny said, looking far too pleased at the prospect of seeing the back of Cho Chang.

"The new girl looks fit anyway," George mused.

"I did miss seeing the last lot flouncing around in that Beauxbaton blue," Fred sighed nostalgically.

As Dumbledore stood to announce the new students, Hermione watched Andromeda look over the Hufflepuff table, and then Ravenclaw. But it couldn't be Andromeda who's brow furrowed as she then looked to Slytherin, and slowly turned to Gryffindor. Oh, but there was no denying it then. Time slowed, and the moment dragged out as slowly as the wicked smile spreading across Andromeda's ruby mouth. Hermione made an excuse she forgot as soon as she finished speaking, and tripped as she left.

But they'd played this game before, and Hermione felt a thrill in the knowledge that Andromeda would most certainly follow her, that confrontation was _inevitable._


	3. Adela

"Jean?!" She cried out into the night, tears streaming down her face, dirt tracking up the back of her legs as she ran deeper into the forest. "For the cunning of Salazar, answer me!" She insisted.

Had it been some magical creature which had secreted Jean away? It was as though the girl had Disapparated, but it wasn't possible. Abruptly, Andromeda tripped and fell amongst the undergrowth. Wet leaves were caught in her hair and on her clothes, and thorns stung the palms of her hands.

Somehow, these sensations seemed to be hitting her tenfold, in a manner she couldn't remember experiencing before in her life. From the moment Jean had disappeared from her arms the night had seemed to hone in, sharp as a dagger.

Andromeda carefully lifted herself up off the ground, pulling a splinter from her thumb before brushing herself off. Looking around into the night, it seemed to be growing ever darker. As Andromeda waited for her eyes to adjust, it dawned on her that no amount of blinking seemed to do the job.

"W-what?" She whispered, reaching out ahead of her, stepping forward. After only a few steps, the ground became smooth and untextured, and Andromeda spluttered… Jean wasn't the only thing that had vanished. Crouching so as not to return her bruised knees to the forest floor, Andromeda reached out her stinging fingers and pressed them to the ground.

It was like nothing she'd ever touched before, flat and numbing, there was no soil. It was more like the thought of soil.

Andromeda drew her hand back with a hiss of breath and sprang back to her feet. Her world, still so complete in her memory, seemed to be closing in around her. With a shiver running down her spine, Andromeda turned and began to sprint back toward the school. Her hands were becoming painful from the cold and her tears felt hot on her icy cheeks.

Andromeda stumbled back into the pumpkin patch, trampling soil and gourds. "Jean?!" She pleaded, once more in vain.

She had expected it, but she was horrified to see it, the castle she had grown up in was at once there and fading. It was all disappearing. What had Jean done to her?

It occured to Andromeda that since Jean's arrival everything had changed for her, all things which didn't involve Jean had seemed so periphery.

Hearing Jean say her name had been like hearing it for the first time, and when she had kissed her Andromeda might have believed that Jean was the only real thing.

"Oh, Merlin…" Andromeda braced a hand to her lips, feeling nauseous. "Not on your life Jean, no you don't."

She had to move fast.

* * *

Rubeus Hagrid had never felt so tired, he felt at once light and heavy as he finished his tea that night and had a mind to turn in early.

The floor creaked as he lifted himself up from his dining chair and made his way over to the cot.

"Good night, Scruff, ya 'ol geezer," Rubeus grumbled to his dog, who was perfectly still in the corner. The man had hardly known his pet to breath so quietly, but he paid him no mind. Not much seemed to matter now, but to lay down his head and return to some dreamier place.

And did a dreamier place not seem more like home?

BANG-BANG. His own front door was rattling in its frame under some stranger's hand. Ponderously, he made to open it. It very nearly woke him from his stupor.

"Young Miss. Black, is that you?" He asked, as he opened the door a crack.

"Is your fireplace connected to the floo?" She replied, he said nought but she pushed past him without another word.

"Tes' not fer students I'm afraid," He tried to explain, and glancing from her to his mutt in the corner he frowned. She seemed so bright, so vivid. Nearly blinding by comparison. Perhaps she was under some spell.

"Accio Floo Powder," she said, and the cupboard door exploded open as the small pot of powder whipped into her outstretched hand.

Rubeus sat on the bed, eyelids heavy.

"I'm sorry," she said to him, throwing a pinch into the fire. It was the only light left in the room, other than her.

In a flash of green it was gone, and she with it.

A dream.

He lay down his head.

* * *

"Hermione!" Harry called, and Hermione was surprised to see he had followed her. Sure he was less dense than Ron, but that wasn't exactly saying much. She had been making her way to the main entrance, desperate to get some fresh air before class.

"Is everything alright? I just…" She tried to summon up the explanation she had given for leaving breakfast. "The library," she finished lamely.

"Oh, is that where you forgot to feed Crookshanks?" He asked smiling, and she huffed.

"Can I help you, officer?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"I'm not trying to pry," he said, raising his hands in surrender and shrugging. "It's just, Ginny said—"

"Of course she did, I was wondering what brought on this sudden show of sensitivity."

"Am I that bad?" He asked, and she frowned.

"No, of course not. Thank you for coming to check on me, I'm just a little underslept. Forget the library I'd actually love some fresh air." They walked together toward her original destination.

"You're tired? You were practically bubbling over this morning." He stopped then and looked at her more closely.

"Well that was this morning, I don't know what to tell you. Maybe I ate something funny at breakfast." He continued to look at her oddly, and when he spoke Hermione was reminded how her friend was a bloody hound for intrigue.

"Your hair, what have you done to it?" He asked with his usual tact, Hermione pursed her lips.

"I've given up on it completely, as you well know."

"Oh," he said, missing his cue to stop talking about it. "It looks… bigger."

She attempted to laugh casually, but she could hear her own nerves. Although her hair tended to grow up and out, you could trust Harry to notice when it was that inch taller. She should've realised it would be the primary marker of the extra time which had passed for her in what for her friends had felt like one night. She felt foolish for not thinking of it.

"Maybe it's the humidity, I don't know. I hardly look in the mirror, is it that noticeable?"

"No, it looks… very nice," he said with the air of someone wanting to say something completely different. "Did you recognise the Beauxbaton students? They didn't look like any of the ones I'd seen before but you seemed to know them." Hermione had missed Harry, she really had, but she had not missed his paranoia.

"Did you see how Malfoy looked at them?" She asked, and immediately knew from his expression that she was going to regret saying it, although it did have the desired effect of throwing him completely off her scent.

"What? What about him? Seriously? I was watching them mostly and then you almost fell flat on your face. Do you think they're… Oh Hermione, what if they're imposters? What if they're with Malfoy? I mean the girl, she came right over and sat by us once they were introduced. But she said she'd heard about me from the tournament, do you think it was a rouse?"

"Wait, she did?" Hermione asked, shocked and a little annoyed at Andromeda's audacity.

"Forget that, tell me exactly what you saw Malfoy do," he said, with an intensity he'd reserved for the Slytherin since they'd returned to school.

"How was her English?" Hermione found herself asking.

"Focus: Malfoy."

"I'm just saying it would be helpful to know if she's actually French. And Harry, I know your theory on Malfoy and I'm not saying that his behaviour isn't suspicious but that doesn't mean… well it might not mean anything. Draco's always behaved in a way that's sort of shady. We've been down that rabbit hole before, and it's only ever been a distraction. Please, just forget him and focus on you lessons with Dumbledore, that's what the Order needs."

"You brought him up!" He complained, his expression mutinous. "This could be important."

"Did the girl say anything suspicious, or strange that could indicate something?" Hermione asked, feeling like an utter hypocrite preaching to Harry about focussing on defeating Voldemort while obsessing over her time travelling non-girlfriend.

"Not really," he conceded, pressing his mouth into a line. "Just that she likes the castle, and she asked us to show her around. She asked about you actually, if you were alright. She saw you rushing off."

"You should stay away from her, you shouldn't be too quick to trust strangers with things the way they are. If she really is an imposter, who knows what she's capable of."

Capable of something even Hermione had only managed through sheer dumb luck.

* * *

Andromeda knew she should have never returned to Hogwarts, not after her lucky escape from the school, but this was where the damn thing had led her and she could feel the pull of the magic still.

Under Albus Dumbledore's gaze, she had never been more fearful that she had made a mistake. What would happen to her in this place if she was recognised for what she was? What Jean had rendered her.

"Bonjour, to our two new students, Hogwarts is delighted to greet you for what I'm sure will be a fruitful exchange."

His attitude was light and congenial, and with a rush of relief, Andromeda realised that he was also utterly disinterested.

"Good day, 'Eadmaster," her fellow exchange student Hugo replied. "We are most grateful to 'ave been chozen for such an opportunity."

"Oui, of course. I can barely contain my excitement," Adela agreed.

And as the details of their arrangement were explained by another familiar face, Minerva McGonagall, Andromeda felt relief flood her as Dumbledore's focus was divided between them and the papers on his desk.

She couldn't have been happier to see someone looking preoccupied.

* * *

Hermione tipped her head low over her copy of Advanced Ancient Runes, she had spent weeks trapped in the past attempting to figure out how to get home to her own time, and she had concluded that it was near impossible. How had Andromeda done it? It was strange for Hermione to be back in class after so long dedicated purely to the study of time. It was a welcome change. She read furiously as she waited for Professor Babbling, part of her mind convinced that she would have catching up to do although logically she knew she had sat in this class only yesterday. As usual, time travel was never really over when it seemed.

"Allo." Speak of the devil. "You are Ginny's companion, oui? I recognize you from zees morning. Ginny was most 'elpful when I asked 'er for advice on zee different subjects at 'ogwarts. You know, I told 'er I like a challenge. She said 'ermione would know just what eet ees I needed, and you are 'ermione?" Andromeda grinned down at her, like a cat that got the cream. She had taken it upon herself to glamour her hair platinum blonde, and her strong bone structure looked blurred around the edges, but it was definitely her. Standing there in her shimmering blue uniform with an accent Hermione would've considered to be some ridiculous caricature if she hadn't become used to Fleur and her friends in fourth year.

"How are you here?" Hermione whispered, and Andromeda smile fell. She did an unconvincing job of looking confused.

"I come veet zee exchange, I'm Adela," she replied, throwing side eye at the students nearest them, a pair of Ravenclaws happily listing their favourite conspiracies.

"You're a student from France then?"

"Oui, pardonne, yes." Andromeda adjusted the books she was holding in her grip and looked uncomfortable.

"Oh, nice touch," Hermione said, eyes narrowed. "Well, then Adela, as a Gryffindor Prefect, it's my pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts." She gave a blinding smile. "Have you had a meeting with your Head of House about subjects?"

"Ah, sadly no, I 'ave no 'ouse," she replied easily.

"Tut tut, that won't do," Hermione mused falsely, tapping her chin. "I know! We should take you to the Headmaster right away and get you sorted." Hermione sprung up from her seat and took hold of Andromeda's wrist, an excited smile on her face.

"Zee 'eadmaster? But 'e told us zat we could sit where ve liked," Andromeda said, clearly conflicted about openly resisting the tug of Hermione's hand as she allowed herself to be taken only a few halting steps.

"Well then it'll be up to him to coordinate a schedule for you, I promise he won't bite," Hermione said, bringing her smiling face closer to Andromeda's as they approached the door together. Her voice was lower and falsely reassuring as she added: "Especially since you have absolutely nothing to hide."

"Won't ve be een trouble for missing class?" Andromeda asked, her eyes wide and innocent. Hermione paused just as she pulled the door open and turned, she had completely forgotten about class, it had been so long since she was obligated to go it had fallen so easily to the wayside. Hermione glanced around and noticed the other students looking at them, naturally Andromeda had gained the attention of her peers, and Hermione who had been behaving strangely all day. Now, to miss class.

"I'm a Prefect, don't worry, as long as you're with me it's allowed," Hermione promised, daring any of her classmates to speak up, but they didn't even pretend not to give the two girls their undivided attention. Particularly with Hermione breaking rules in a much more public style than they were used to.

"Is that really the case, Ms. Granger?" A voice from behind her asked, and even Andromeda had the decency to look apologetic as Hermione whirled around.

"Professor Babbling," Hermione greeted, trying to look like the Teacher's Pet she frankly was. "I was just going to make sure Adela was registered for her classes." The Professor furrowed her brow.

"Five points from Gryffindor for bad lying," she sighed, breezing past them. "Please take a seat the pair of you, and if I see you trying to whisk Ms. Boucher away again I'll have your badge."

Aware that Babbling was to be taken at her word, Hermione hurried quickly to her seat without protest, and glared at Andromeda for taking the seat next to her.

"'Ermione, zat's a beet of a mouth full, eezn't eet?"

"How are you here?" Hermione repeated stubbornly.

"'Ow could I stay avay?" Andromeda asked in return and Hermione's gaze snapped to meet hers. The heat in Andromeda's eyes did something to Hermione's stomach. "Zee exchange vas such an exciting chance." Something like anticipation.

"Bugger off, Adela," Hermione grumbled, and reached into her bag for her ink pot.

"Can I borrow a quill?" She asked, and Hermione slammed her spare on the table between them, bracing herself for a long day. "Merci."

* * *

Hermione was beginning to see the Slytherin in Andromeda now, as she proved to be as slippery as a snake. Andromeda somehow managed to spend the entire day at Hermione's side, while never once giving Hermione the opportunity to question her alone, or to summon a confession out of her.

She had completely charmed all of Hermione's friends by lunch, and even though Harry liked her, Ginny still thought she was great. Hermione could barely keep Ginny onside half of the time, Andromeda's carry-on should've been abhorrent.

It was the most time they'd spent together at once since they'd met, and Andromeda insisted on playing this ridiculous role. Hermione had to watch Andromeda flirt with 80% of the school in her ridiculously provocative uniform, speaking in fractioned English with her absurd accent.

"'Ermione, do you 'ave a 'eadache?" Andromeda asked, as they sat down to dinner. Ginny had left them for a moment to ask Lovegood about a Charms essay.

Hermione's eyes were closed and she gently massaged her temples. "Aren't you tired?" She asked the other girl, who poured them each a glass of juice.

"You should learn to be patient, mon petite chou," Andromeda replied, sipping from her goblet. "I 'ave been patient weeth you, no?"

Hermione sensed some trepidation in Andromeda's tone that almost made her soften, but she pushed the feeling aside. She would help Andromeda to undo her mistake, but she could not encourage this fanciful denial. Terrible things happen to those who meddle with time.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't march up to the owlery and inform Dumbledore of your presence at once," Hermione said, taking no pleasure from the statement.

Andromeda's movements slowed like a cat trying not to draw attention to itself. For a moment Hermione struggled to read her, and then their eyes met, and Andromeda's hand was on Hermione's leg just out of view of their peers. "Because I'm not the one who fucked up, Jean. You are!" She hissed, her fingers digging into Hermione's leg. She had finally broken character, and she was angry. "How dare you judge me after what you've done! How dare you threaten me. Bloody uppity Gryffindor knowitall." Her words dripped like acid from her lips but her expression and movements betrayed nothing as she stood. "Let's get this over with. Meet me in the second floor bathroom when you've finished eating."

With that, she made her way to the Ravenclaw table to sit with the other Beauxbaton student.

Hermione looked to the staff table, suddenly concerned at the prospect of drawing the Headmaster's attentions with Andromeda's words banging around her head, but he had yet to arrive.

"We need to work out some sort of system for you to communicate these tips to me before tomorrow mate, because if I strike out and you get another bloody O I'm going to lose the head," Ron complained as he and Harry arrived to dinner.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, clutching his copy of Advanced Potion Making as Ron eyed it greedily.

"Oh, I'd forgotten about you and that bloody book," she sighed.

Ron laughed. "You only made us sit through a twenty minute lecture about the thing on monday. Where's your shadow?"

"Hm?" She asked.

Harry gestured to the empty seat and full goblet beside her.

"Oh, Adela?" Hermione asked. "She said something about 'wondering 'ow you english eat so many 'eavy meals.' Then she went to sit with the other exchange student."

"They're not with any houses, I suppose that rules them out for Quidditch," Harry mumbled.

"You won't be looking for too many new faces on the team this year anyway, will you?" Ron said, a little shiftily.

"He has to be fair, Ronald! You can't just expect Harry to give you a place on the team because your friends."

"Oi! First of all, not just because we're friends," he imitated her voice. "It may have escaped your notice, but I did make the team fair and square last year! And B, he can give the positions to whoever he likes."

Harry looked uncomfortable as Ron went on. "There are alot of people applying, it'd be unfair not to let them have a shot."

"Bloody hell," Ron grumbled. "Save your bad news for the morning and just let me eat in peace, I've enough on my mind between bloody Non-verbal this, and Malfoy is a Deatheater that!"

"Ron!" Hermione complained. "Keep your voice down."

"Why?" Harry smiled grimly. "He's probably not wrong."

"You mean you're probably not wrong," Hermione shot back.

"You lot back at your whispering?" Ginny asked, rejoining them.

Harry spilt soup down his front.

* * *

Dumbledore never showed at dinner, which in light of his behaviour in recent weeks wasn't unusual, Hermione could only hope that Andromeda really could be trusted and that the Headmaster's absence would be positive for what was to come. Daunting as the prospect of taking the next step without the man's input was as she had become accustomed to it in recent weeks.

"Alone at last," Andromeda said as Hermione walked into the girls bathroom.

Hermione held a finger to her own lips with a pointed look.

"Homenum revelio," Hermione whispered.

Andromeda snorted. "You in the Order?" She asked, grinning blithely.

Hermione stiffened. "Did the Order send you?" Hermione pressed, casting a hasty muffliato over the door.

Andromeda tilted her head, as though taken aback.

It occurred to Hermione that she may have said the wrong thing.

"Did they send you?" Andromeda asked, her blonde eyebrows raised.

Hermione tried to suck the words back into her mouth. "Did who send me?" Hermione breathed, trying for casual and failing miserably. She pocketed her wand.

"The Order of the Phoenix, you know… the Gryffindor graduate club? I can't believe they're still going."

"They're not!" Hermione said too quickly.

Andromeda smiled at her knowingly.

Hermione crossed her arms.

"Relax, the only thing I know about the Order is that for an underground organisation they have a real penchant for group photos, and great big glowy Patronus Charms. But what do I know, right? I'm just a Slytherin Pureblood with blood ties to known Death Eaters and a Sapphic streak a mile wide," Andromeda said, clearly completely aware of the effect her attitude was having on Hermione.

Hermione was surprised Andromeda's blue uniform hadn't caught fire under the heat of her glare.

"What am I going to do with you?" Hermione asked the infuriating girl through gritted teeth.

"What would you like to do with me?" Andromeda asked, her bedroom eyes narrowed in a wicked challenge.

Hermione summoned what little resistance she had, attempting to list the five principal exceptions to Gamp's Law of elemental transfiguration to recentre herself emotionally. After a pause she took another breath and felt noticeably calmer.

"Alright, Black," she sighed. "I'm going to need you to give me some straight answers about how you got here so that we can work on getting you home."

"Calling me Black, that's a bit edgy, but I'm going by Adela Boucher. Not that I don't like edgy, it's just that you never asked. What's your surname Hermione? Goodbody? Lovejoy?"

"It's Granger, actually."

"Of course it is, of the Dagworth-Grangers?"

"No. I thought we'd established I'm Muggleborn."

"It's really only been hours for you, hasn't it Jean?" Andromeda asked, glossing over to a preferred subject, and gazing at her with a dreamy expression.

"I fell asleep to you, and I woke up to you," Hermione shrugged, not correcting her on the use of the alias.

Andromeda began to step closer to her.

Hermione realised too late she was backed into the sink.

"Did you think about me when you fell asleep last night?"

"How did you get here?" Hermione asked again, but Andromeda was having none of it.

"After I'd finished searching, and panicking, and losing my temper that last night on earth when you kissed me goodbye, you best bet I thought of you, Jean. I wasn't sure I would wake up, but I'd be damned if I didn't dream of you. I dreamt of your shaking lips, and your blistering skin, and your giant, fucking perfect hair till you were the last thing left."

They were alone at last, and Hermione wondered why she had ever wanted it.

Andromeda's hands were braced on the sink behind Hermione, and their thighs were pressed together.

"How long ago was that?" Hermione asked, instead of saying she was sorry or melting into a puddle like she wanted to do. She refused to be sidetracked.

"Twenty or so years, since you ask. Or maybe it never happened, something tells me you don't have the answers." Andromeda was close to her now, too close. She could reach forward and wash her hands in the basin Hermione was leaning against if she really wanted to.

"I meant for you, how long did it take you to find me? Through all of space and time?"

"Worried you've been outsmarted, 'Ermione?"

Hermione begrudged the laugh that rose in her throat, but she couldn't help but smile despite a valiant effort. "You're ridiculous," Hermione chastised, she could feel the cool silk of Andromeda's skirt skimming over her thigh just above her knee and she practically jumped out of her skin at the touch.

"Do I frighten you?" Andromeda asked, and her tone was something Hermione couldn't place.

"You're mad," Hermione replied. "This is serious, what have you done? What are you doing? What were you thinking?"

"I want to know if I can trust you, Jean, but after a day watching you, you haven't given me a single reason to. That aside, I thought it was fairly obvious what I was thinking." Andromeda punctuated the sentence by letting the breath of her words tumble over Hermione's lips, but the Gryffindor bared her teeth and pushed the Pureblood away.

"What happened to me wasn't my fault, but for you to risk everything, just for… I don't know for this," Hermione hissed, clearly outraged.

Andromeda put her hand on her chest where Hermione had pushed her and looked hurt.

"Do you have any idea what you're risking by being here? You can't be here. You've already seen too much, and you've been seen. I recognised you, Dumbledore will definitely recognise you." Hermione tried to ignore the way the too beautiful girls unchanged eyes were welling up. She stayed where she was, refusing to take her into her arms as she had before. "Look Andromeda, I'm sorry. It's good to see you, but you can't stay. You have to go back." Hermione moved away from the sink, and made for the door. "Come on, this is it. Now." Andromeda didn't move, her head was bowed. "I mean it," Hermione said, sounding petulant to herself she knew, because she didn't. She didn't mean it.


	4. Aphrodite's Tear

On Andromeda's last night in 1971, Hagrid's cabin disappeared from view.

Everything was just as dim on the other side of the floo, barely there. In her family's french chateau Andromeda ran to find her mother.

"Mother!" she cried out. The sound was muted and warped as though there weren't enough particles in the air to vibrate under the sound. She breathed and there was hardly air to inhale.

Her body still felt alright though, real. She blinked against the dark. She had to act fast. She thought of where her mother might be. In the boudoir? It was as though she brought the house into being around her by moving through it. Corners of the dim seemed to spring into life as she lurched towards them, and faded in her peripheral vision once she passed.

She _needed_ that necklace. "Druella?" she tried again, feeling the strangeness of her Mother's first name on her tongue.

"Who's there?" came the barest reply. Relief. If Andromeda was losing her mind she might live to regret this, she knew, but her gut told her she was doing the right thing. The only thing.

"Mother," she sighed, pushing the ornate door to the room open and feeling only the memory of the wood on her skin. Somehow she recognised her mother when she entered the room, although it was not Druella Black as she'd known her. Druella was a spectre of herself, gasping on the velvet chaise lounge.

"Aah," Druella whispered upon seeing her, as if in realisation of something much greater than recognition of her child.

"May I please see your necklace, Mother? Aphrodite's tear," Andromeda asked without preamble, her voice even smaller than she had expected, as if it were coming from very far away. Andromeda's eyes flicked to the Versailles-leafed clock ticking on the mantle but she couldn't hear it. She heard nothing but the timbre of her mother's reply, although she couldn't distinguish the individual words.

The clock smeared as she dragged her eyes away from it. All she could see clearly was her mother's hand lifting the bauble out from beneath the silk of her dressing gown. The jewel glistened, the oldest magick Andromeda knew of that was in her reach, and the only thing she could think of that might save her. Help her.

She stepped forward, greedy to grasp at it. Her feet felt spongy, like they weren't quite meeting the ground. She wept.

When she wrapped her hand around the necklace it lifted into her grasp as if she'd pulled it from thin air. Her Mother's neck, her Mother, was gone.

Andromeda stared at where Druella had been and froze.

" _Have you ever felt nothing? No smell, no sound, not another soul to tether you to earth. Not even the heat of your own tears you know well are streaming down your face. There's a sensation from your own heartbeat, Jean. But you wouldn't know, you don't miss it till it's gone."_

There was a glow as Aphrodite's tear mingled with her own in what was left of the palm of her hand, and Andromeda drank it all down. She could never be sure if she'd imagined the sensation of swallowing or if it was the last thing she felt before sun streamed into the room. Illuminating what had been evaporating moments before and stinging her crying eyes.

Andromeda coughed gracelessly against the freshness of the air entering her lungs. In the same moment she noticed that she was still in the room where she'd left what was left of her mother. Despite new drapes and pink wallpaper, the baroque stuccodore was unmistakable. Yet the differences, the _wear_. Sure the ornate plaster-work was there, distinctive, but the gold leaf finish was flaking and cracked as if it had undergone years of fatigue.

"Seigneur!, Mon Dieu!" Someone cried to her left and she turned, hoping for a familiar face. [My God!]

She didn't recognise the girl she had just startled with what she gathered was a sudden appearance. Andromeda breathed in carefully through her nose, forcing the persistent coughing to subside. The girl was blonde, frowning, and only just home from school by the looks of it. Standing next to a floral-print four-poster in blue silk witch's robes. The witch gave her a discerning look. So, Andromeda was in the same place, the necklace was supposed to reunite her with a lost love but it hadn't moved her through space. Still, no… Bloody Jean.

"Bonjour," the stranger said, unmoving. "Êtes-vous un ami d'Hugo? Sa chambre est au bout du couloir." [Hello] [Are you a friend of Hugo's? His room is down the hall.]

The atmosphere was tense. Andromeda faked a few additional coughs to stall as she struggled for an answer, grateful for her Mother's commitment to their french heritage. "Je suis désolé pour l'intrusion," she replied, her foreign accent confusing the girl further. "Uhm… J'apprends à l'apparition. Je dois eh… avoir fait une erreur. Uhm..." [Sorry to intrude.] [I'm learning to apparate. I must have made a mistake.]

"English?" The girl interrupted her, smiling in understanding.

"Oui! So sorry, I'm Andromeda," Andromeda said, holding out her hand. Her manners kicking in. It was only then she noticed her hand was filthy and grazed from her fall in the forest. She must look a state.

"Adela Boucher," Adela replied, crossing the room to shake hands in a few delicate steps, politely ignoring the glass stains on Andromeda's palms. "This is the Boucher residence," she explained, her accent hardly noticeable.

The knowledge came to Andromeda like a memory as soon as skin met skin, and she dropped the witch's hand like she'd been scalded from the shock of seeing Adela's thoughts. "You're pregnant!" Andromeda announced.

Adela's face paled so that it was positively grey, her jaw dropped. "Excusez-moi?" She asked, although there was no misunderstanding. "Are you a seer?" [excuse me?]

Andromeda was not a seer, or she hadn't been. Never in her life had she any knack for divination, but there was more … Adela was pregnant and it was a secret. A secret from everyone. One she dreaded anyone might discover. Adela was desperate.

"I can help you," Andromeda said, and once again more confidently. Her bright mind cobbling things together. "We could help each other, Adela."

Adela was fearful and suspicious. "What makes you think you can help me? If I wanted someone to cast a spell for termination I would simply confess to mon Père, or do you know about that as well, seer?"

"I… Adela will we be overheard?" Andromeda asked, seeing the evidence before her of what was happening, rethinking everything Jean had ever said to her, and trying her best not to jump to an extreme conclusion.

Something about her expression seemed to spike Adela's curiosity. Andromeda could see it in her eyes that she wanted nothing more than anything to believe this stranger was going to swoop in and offer her a solution.

"Come on, hear me out," Andromeda persisted, and biting her lip Adela glanced at the door to the boudoir.

"Will you let me hold your wand if I agree to lock us in?" Adela asked.

Andromeda reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand, holding it out to Adela. "Of course," she said, and Adela took it, this time they were both careful not to let their hands touch.

With that Adela locked the door, and carefully placed a silencing charm on it. Taking her time to be sure it was done correctly.

"Now, dîtes-moi," Adela said, and went to sit on the end of her bed, gesturing for Andromeda to sit on the bench in front of the gilded vanity. [tell me]

"First, I need to ask you something, and if I have any guess as to your answer you'll see that I need your help just as much as you need mine."

"Well?" Adela placed the two wands on the quilt next to her.

"Is this 1971?" Andromeda asked.

Adela's eyes widened. "Did you come from the future? Is that how you know about my baby? Ma Mamie Rosier time travelled once, or so they say."

"It's _before_ 1971?" Andromeda asked, Adela was a Rosier, that made sense. This house had belonged to Rosier's for generations, but there was nothing traditional in the style of Adela's dress, and the disrepair of the rooms finish. Unless Andromeda was somewhere separate from the future and the past, as she in part suspected based on what had happened in her last moments with her mother. She gulped against a lump in her throat. Based on everything that had happened from the moment Jean disappeared.

"It's 1996, first week of school. I am home for the weekend. Are you a time traveller then, truly? I had thought, from your clothes, perhaps you were just into the vintage style. Are you dressed to blend in with people back then? Did you not make it back all the way?" Adela was curious now. "Do you think time travel will help me somehow? Is that why you are here?"

Andromeda felt cold. "I'm not from the future," she mumbled, hardly aware of the words leaving her mouth.

"Attendez! Andromeda! Andromeda Black?! I know your mother! She is ma grand-tante Druella! We are cousins! Mais vous êtes… you married a muggle… et vous, ooh la la... you are forty at least. Can it be? Are you that Andromeda?" Adela announced, and then stopped talking. She put her hand over her mouth. [Wait! Andromeda! Andromeda Black?! I know your mother! She is my great aunt Druella! We are cousins! But you are… you married a muggle… and you, ooh la la... you are forty at least.]

Andromeda wanted to ask if her mother was alive, but she was so fearful of the reply. Remembering the rattling spectre from only minutes before. "My mother, is she...?" Andromeda pushed a breath out through her nose.

Adela lowered her hand from her mouth and babbled: "She visits here every year, oh she has never forgiven that daughter of hers… uhm, you. It is you?"

"It's me," she replied. Equal parts relieved and defeated. So, her mother was alive and disappointed in her. At least there was one constant in her life.

Adela's eyes widened hungrily and she whispered reverently. "So, you _can_ help me."

* * *

In the Hogwarts bathroom in 1996, Andromeda was tempted to let Jean leave, to say no more. How much could she tell this girl, how much should she tell her?

"You don't understand," Andromeda lamented, and the tears which had been threatening ever since Jean had taken up her caustic little front began to spill in earnest. "I shouldn't be here, and not for the reasons you think. I shouldn't even want to talk to you about it, this is all your bloody fault. You're the reason I'm like this."

Jean was still by the door, clearly conflicted as Andromeda was herself.

"This is for your safety too, you know," the Gryffindor persisted weakly. "Time is no one's plaything. It's unpredictable, and unstable... Anything could happen to you now, to us."

"Jean," Andromeda pleaded, and breaking like a wave, Jean came to her at last. She took Andromeda in her arms, and just as she had before Andromeda buried herself in Jean's shoulder and fell apart.

"It's alright," Jean said. "You shouldn't have used magic if you didn't understand it, it's dangerous. Have you had side effects?"

"That's rich coming from you! Ruddy Pandora incarnate." Andromeda wasn't about to confess her theory that she herself was the bloody side effect.

"How long have you been in this time Andromeda, by yourself?" Jean asked.

Andromeda knew she should be more measured in her replies, but she'd missed her friend, and she craved a conversation with someone who understood her at all. Even if she couldn't explain. "Merlin you're like a dog with a bone. I haven't been by myself. When I found out what year it was I was still in Paris-"

"Why would you travel to the future in Paris?" Jean interrupted, baffled.

Andromeda felt weak. "There's so much you don't know, things I can't fully explain. Honestly, things you don't need to worry about. You, you've got it all wrong. No one's recognised me, I promise," she insisted through her tears, her voice muffled by Jean's Gryffindor jumper. "My being here... it's not going to change anything. Not for any of you." Andromeda was aware she was showing many of her cards, but the rest would have to wait.

"Let's not think about it right now... we'll probably have to get you to Dumbledore at some point anyway," Jean said.

"No! No, we can't go to him. Trust me," Andromeda lifted her head to look at Jean then.

"You really think he hasn't already… Noticed you? Recognised you?"

She released Jean and palmed away her tears hastily as if she had just been caught and had time to hide them.

"I won't be recognised, it helps that I'm a Pureblood," Andromeda sniffed, and took another step back. "We all look the same... Merlin, listen to me, this is why I needed to avoid you. One look at you and I'm singing like a bird. I've told you as much as I can, I've trusted you, can't you just try to do the same."

Amazingly, Jean had the audacity to look stung by this. "I haven't outed you yet," Jean defended.

"Because you trust me?" Andromeda asked, quirking a brow.

Jean looked as though she was in pain. "I'd trust you alot more if you could tell me what is going on."

"Why do I get the impression that you're accustomed to being the one with all the answers?"

"I...Say we forget about how you got here for a moment. If we're not going to Dumbledore, then what now? Can you at least tell me what your plan is for getting home?" Hermione asked.

Andromeda let out a shaky sigh, not having the words necessary to explain that there was no home for her to get back to. That she had made a lucky escape from the only home she'd ever known. "What was that you said about finding you?" Andromeda stepped closer to Jean, changing tack. She allowed all traces of her momentary fragility to evaporate, feeling something raw rise up in its wake. "Through all of space and time? Did you mean for it to sound so dreadfully romantic?"

"You didn't come here for me."

"What do you want me to say? I came here… because of you… But, no, I didn't do it for you. I came here for me. It just so happens that now that I'm here... you're all I've got."

"I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do Andromeda, but the longer you stay here, the harder it's going to be for you to go back without having your memory modified in some way… And that's assuming we can even find the means."

"Merlin, do you ever stop? Are you going to summon up some faith, or are you going to keep torturing me like this?" At this rate, Jean was going to drive her out.

Before Jean could reply, they were interrupted by the sound of the door to the bathroom opening.

Andromeda's first instinct was to hide, but remembering herself she began to babble. "'Ow will I make eet through zee rest of zis exchange if I am already so 'omesick. I should 'ave let zem send Michelle instead, but I was so excited to see 'Ogwarts. I'm sure you 'ave better things to do zen listen to me babble, sweet girl, but I am grateful."

"It's alright, A-Adela. As a Prefect, it's the least I can do to try and make you feel welcome."

The two young Slytherins who had just happened upon them glanced over with some interest, Adela was a new curiosity in the school so they were likely to be on the hunt for details.

"Merci, 'Ermione."

"Come on. Why don't you show me where you're staying. You'll feel better after some rest."

* * *

Hermione was not done with Andromeda yet, but it was too dangerous to speak so openly in the halls, so they carried on in silence. Walking like this was awkwardly reminiscent of their night together just hours before. She could only wonder how long ago it was for Andromeda as their conversation had only raised more questions than it had answered. Andromeda was as much an enigma as she had ever been.

"Do you want to see ze boudoir?" Andromeda asked, stopping suddenly.

She gestured to a faded tapestry of a unicorn collecting pine cones. When she pulled it aside, a door was revealed.

"This is where you're staying?" Hermione asked.

Andromeda was about to answer, but they were both silent as the door opened.

"Ooh lala, Adela! Mais t'étais où? J'ai quelque chose pour toi. Entrez, entre!" He gestured Andromeda in, and she smiled and did as instructed, ducking under his arm as he moved to hold the tapestry. [where were you? I have something for you. Come in!]

"Je suis desole," she mumbled, then she turned and waved goodbye to Hermione. [sorry]

"I am 'Ugo, it eez nice to meet you," the Beauxbaton boy said, extending his hand.

"Quel est la chose?" Andromeda was asking behind him, and he turned distractedly. [Where's the thing?]

"I'm Hermione, I…"

"On ze table," he told Andromeda. "I'm sorry for my sister, she 'asn't been 'erself. I 'ope she gave you no trouble?"

"Y-your sister?"

"Oui, pardon me for a moment."

Andromeda approached the table and frowned. "'Ugo!" She cried. "Ferme la porte!" [shut the door]

"Good night. Au revoir," he sighed, and he allowed the tapestry to rustle back into place, before a click informed Hermione that the door was shut. [Good bye]

* * *

Hermione had to tell someone, she had to talk to someone. She had thought that before, with only Dumbledore to confide in, that she might go mad. But now, Andromeda had isolated Hermione among her own friends.

How could Andromeda's alias have a brother? And how could Andromeda speak so much about trust and faith and then tell Hermione so little? Did she not see what she was asking?

For Hermione to keep this secret as she learned more and more of her own future, making it impossible for her to return home without unrivaled consequences. But then, if she didn't return home, surely the results could be even worse.

But Andromeda had insisted there wouldn't be any wider consequences.

Hermione walked through the common room in a daze, making her way to her dormitory.

Andromeda couldn't know that… Could Hermione really go to bed and simply allow this absurd charade to continue?

No… no. Hermione pulled out some quill and parchment.

She would have to at least do some homework first.


	5. Le Destin

In Paris, the day Andromeda arrived in 1996, Adela couldn't believe her luck.

"I wanted to get in touch with you cousin, pardon, the older Andromeda, but I didn't know how. I thought maybe you… she could help me. She's a blood traitor, and…" Adela paused, glanced at her lap, thinking of her child.

"And you are as well?" Andromeda asked. Adela recognised Andromeda now, from family photographs that she would occasionally appear in the background of, although her portraits were all gone or destroyed, a few images remained. Even before she'd met Leon, it was hard not to be curious about Andromeda, about anyone who, well... defected. Andromeda Black who married for love, when she was not much older than she looked to be now. Not much older than Adela.

"Is there anything you do not know?" Adela asked. Trying to force herself to suspect this dishevelled young woman, who may have appeared from thin air for any nefarious reason. Adela was low on options though, she so wanted to hope that Andromeda had come to be her saviour as promised. Adela wanted to believe in her.

Andromeda was silent for a painful moment, she ran a hand through her hair and paused when she found one of the autumn leaves lodged there. She gazed at it and sighed, "Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself... The way I see it, I need a disguise if I'm going to be able to make it back to England and figure out how to fix my situation, and you need time to have your baby away from your family… But even if I was you, I couldn't just piss off to England, and where would you even go? Pregnant and alone," Andromeda scoffed and shook her head. "And what would I do long-term, be you forever while you raise your child in secret?"

Adela listened and felt a slight thrill. She was convinced now that Andromeda may be a seer, but she was also a teenage girl who was as desperate as herself. Also, Andromeda didn't know how fitting her plan might actually be, or she was just trying not to frighten Adela.

"Andromeda, this may work. Every day this month, I have wished that I could be anyone but myself, and here you are. Leon, mon petit ami, he asked me to stay with him at his place. I said no, of course, because I must be here, but with you here. Don't you see? Est-ce le destin? No?" Adela asked, seeing the opportunity for escape looming. [my boyfriend] [is this fate?]

Andromeda shrugged, unsure.

Adela shrugged in turn, and lifted her wand. "Accio mon coffre," she cast, and watched with satisfaction as her trunk slid across the floor to rest at her feet. [my trunk]

"Wait, but I still need to get to Britain, to Hogwarts probably—" Andromeda said, seeming slightly shocked at Adela's break into motion.

"Exactement! I am supposed to go to the British school in just two weeks for an exchange. You must have known this," Adela insisted, charming garments and toiletries into her case one after the other. [exactly]

"But! Wait, really? Hold on a moment, Adela," Andromeda sputtered, blushing and closed her eyes as Adela started to strip off her uniform.

"Je jure devant Dieu, this will work," Adela said, hand on heart. And Adela really looked at the other girl whose eyes were screwed shut, noticing how Andromeda, her cousin, was built like her, even sort of looked like her. "This will work. How are your glamour charms?" [I swear to God]

"They're fine, but Adela, I should never have suggested this. It was naive to think… even with a glamour and an interpretation charm, we don't know each other. How will I pass as you? And long-term how can we—"

"I don't need long-term," Adela stated, looking at her reflection in the vanity behind Andromeda. "I'm dressed."

Andromeda opened her eyes and baulked. "What are you wearing?!"

Adela was dressed in Leon's jumper, muggle's called them 'hoodies', and jeans, with muggle sports shoes. She'd let her hair out of it's updo and tied it in a low ponytail. She dug around in the pocket of the hoodie and pulled out a beanie which she pulled over her head.

"My disguise!" Adela said, happily. "Muggle chic." Feeling over the moon with relief, she was getting out of here! Andromeda would cover for her, Hell, covering for Adela was Andromeda's cover.

"Slow down, we need to think about this, I —"

"We can help each other, you said it yourself." Adela grinned, levitating her trunk and marching toward the floo.

Andromeda stepped in front of Adela, blocking her path. "Are you stupid? I don't even know who else is in this house, I don't know who your friends are, what they know. We can't."

Adela felt her heart sink in her chest. She wanted this to work. She was used to getting her way, but ever since falling for Leon everything had become complicated. "No, I am not stupid. I'm just not…" she sighed, feeling tears sting her eyes, and a strange smile force its way onto her face. "I may be a little spoilt, forgive me. I am ashamed to admit it, but I am not used to doing a lot of work for a reward."

Andromeda nodded in understanding. "You remind me of my sister: Narcissa. She isn't stupid either, she's just more used to solutions than problems. I've never been like that, I've always been the problem child," Andromeda admitted.

There was a release of tension between the two of them then, one which they were both aware of and which showed in their posture. They recognised each other.

"Je t'implore, Andromeda," Adela said, lowering her trunk back to the floor with a flick of her wand. [I implore you]

She could see Andromeda relent. "If we're going to do this, you've got to follow my lead."

"Absolutely!" Adela agreed.

* * *

Adela changed before she went downstairs and ate dinner with her family. She looked at their faces and wondered when she would see them again. She struggled to make conversation, knowing Andromeda was just upstairs, reading her journal, rifling through photographs, it made her feel wooly. Or maybe it was the after effects of the amateur legilimency Andromeda had performed on her.

Now she was working on the finishing touches, sealing their respective fates. Of course, Adela's was already sealed. She was going to have to choose between her seat at this table, and a life of poverty and denim with Leon and their baby eventually.

Her brother Hugo easily filled the void with talk of Quidditch with her mother, and in time Adela made an excuse to return to her room.

She would have embraced her family one last time, but instead she tried to remember the last moments she had shared with them that were free of duress. If she were to try and create a moment like that now, she knew she would only fall apart.

* * *

When Adela entered the room, Andromeda looked up with a start.

"It's only me," Adela whispered, before turning to cast a silencing charm on the door.

Andromeda had cleaned herself up, she sat cross-legged on the bed in a pair of borrowed pajamas.

Things had always come easily to Adela, but thanks to her own runaway heart she had more in common with Andromeda than she ever expected to. " I don't want to frighten you, but do you know this man you will be with? Who you leave your family for?"

Adela began to change into her own night clothes, and Andromeda closed her eyes again.

Andromeda smiled sadly. "In my life, I haven't met any such man. Although, speaking candidly, it does sound like something I would do… with one slight caveat. Something different happened to me — is happening."

"I didn't mean to tell you about your future, but now that you know..." Adela thought of her own situation. "Do you think you will do something differently when you return? I'm dressed."

"Honestly? I think it will be different for me. I think I'm something different. When I left my time, it was all wrong. It was passing like a thought... I don't know if I am the Andromeda Black you've heard about." Andromeda opened her eyes but her gaze remained faraway. "I'm sorry Adela, I know what you are asking me, but I really don't know what advice I can offer you."

Adela crawled onto the bed and sat up against the headboard. "It is strange, I have thought about you alot in these recent days. I already know what you would do in my position, that you would turn your back on everything. All I know about you is that, everyone in the family knows it, and even those who despise you must admire you for it. Your force of will."

"That's not me, I—"

"But it will be, our future is the same," Adela insisted, feeling some fear at the thought. Andromeda was a cautionary tale growing up.

Andromeda laughed. "It can't be." She rolled her eyes.

"Because you're not stupid?" Adela queried, she had meant to tease, but she knew it sounded bitter. Her frustration with herself was plain.

"No! Because I'm not— I'm, I don't, ugh." The expression on Andromeda's face was frightened and sort of amazed. She scooted to the very edge of the bed, and with her back straight as a rod she spoke: "I'm a bloody lesbian, Adela." The confession was followed by a long, shaky breath. "I can't be the same woman as the Andromeda from this place because I'm… well because of that."

"Are you… are you sure?" Adela wished she had done a better job of hiding her surprise, but c'est la vie.

Andromeda scoffed. "No, I just fancy the idea." She stood up, folded her arms across her chest and turned around. There was a look in her eye, something which surpassed tenacious. "Well?" She demanded. "Are we still doing this?"

"Do you have any more questions?" Adela asked in answer.

Andromeda visibly relaxed a little. "Okay, what about after? What happens when the exchange ends at Christmas?"

"I'm not totally sure, but if I take a Mandragora draft I can accelerate the pregnancy a bit. That way I'll have the baby before we have to switch back," Adela explained, realising as she spoke that this could all work out. She could keep seeing Leon and the baby without her family finding out, and she could spend the next four months with him deciding if that was right for her.

"My Mother took that potion with Cissy, Bella said it made her eat like a pig," Andromeda said, still not quite recovered from her admission. She smiled nervously.

"Tres bien, I love to eat!" Adela replied, trying to lighten the mood. "What will you do?"

"Once I figure that out, you'll be the first to know."

They shared a determined look, and something about the steel in Andromeda's eyes made Adela feel like it would be okay.

"Okay," Adela said, with a small smile.

Andromeda nodded curtly. "Okay," she agreed.

And feeling a rush of something maternal, Adela climbed off the bed to give her cousin a hug.

* * *

Adela left for Leon's first thing the following morning, and after some impressive spell work, Andromeda set off for school.


	6. Chapter 6

At the northwest of the Castle, Andromeda and Hugo shared a small common area where they each had a room adjacent. As was her habit, Andromeda avoided being alone with Hugo as best she could. She knew from the smattering of Adela's memories that this would be painful for him, but she was low on options. Hugo and Adela had been an inseparable set of twins, and now...

"Attendez, Adela!, Ne quittez pas!" Hugo complained as she attempted to escape into her room. He was lanky, with kind, sleepy eyes. He had a big easy grin Andromeda had seen in her borrowed memories, but rarely in person. [Wait Adela!] [Hang on!]

"Désolé Hugo, pas maintenant," She replied. [Sorry Hugo, not now]

He saw her reaching for her parcel, and beat her to it in two quick strides. He was constantly trying to reconcile with his sister, and Andromeda hoped her frosty treatment of him wouldn't do any lasting damage to his relationship with Adela. He held the parcel to his chest. She scowled and held out her hand for it, it was a necessary evil, she wished he wasn't with her on this exchange.

"Parle moi," he pleaded, half-hearted. "Juste pour quelques minutes." [talk to me] [just for a few minutes]

Careful to avoid touching his skin and prompting her seer thing, Adela gently tugged the object from his grip. She shook her head no.

He raised his hands in surrender, and returned to the homework he had laid out on the table in front of the small, marble fireplace.

If it didn't seem so impossible, Hugo might've accused her of being an impostor already. Seeing is believing, however, and even if Andromeda was so transparently recognisable to Jean, this was Adela's face. Adela's brother really loved her, it made Andromeda miss Sirius. _Don't think about it._

Andromeda took her package and went into her room, locking herself in without another word. She felt awful, but what was new? She was always disappointing someone, why should her cover family like her any better than the one she lost to time?

Andromeda was still upset with Jean, with the world really, for everything that had happened to her. She sat on the edge of her four-poster and carefully opened the corner of the parcel.

She recognised her old Hogwarts uniform as soon as she saw the familiar sheen of silver on her old Slytherin tie. She felt a pang of homesickness, and wished she could just put it on and walk out into the hall and find everything as it had been. She felt like a stupid teenager for thinking it, but she still couldn't convince herself that she regretted ever meeting Jean. Despite all the chaos the girl's arrival had heralded in her life, Andromeda was still crazy about her. Then again, everyone in this new, different Hogwarts was.

Andromeda reached her hand into the package and rubbed her thumb over the fabric of her old life. The thick, heavy wool was a far cry from the thin film of blue silk she was living in now.

Jean's… well, _Hermione's_ friends were wonderful. They looked up to her, she was so powerful, it was bloody sexy. Andromeda had read about what happened in England, about what that crowd poor Bella had gotten mixed up in had done to the country, to themselves. She'd read enough to know it wasn't over, and it was no small thing that even Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived that she'd read so much tripe about, totally defaulted to Jean. Jean was at the centre of everything at this Hogwarts, it was no wonder she was so desperate to get back. _She probably is in the bloody Order._

Andromeda pulled her hand from the package, she wished she had someone to talk to but that feeling wasn't new. She'd been lonely before all of this, it was just that before she could at least hope that if she did the right thing and worked hard she could make it right with her family. There was no hope of that now. Not even with Sirius. _No._

Her beloved cousin was something which she refused to think about, between him and Regulus, it was enough to make her ill.

Adela had sent the uniform at Andromeda's request, but she didn't intend to wear it. Andromeda had a theory, but she'd been afraid to test it. She still was. She stood up, intent to shove the neatly wrapped uniform under her mattress. She paused. A lifetime of Bella had made her doubtful of such an obvious hiding place. After a moment's thought, she stepped back a little and threw it up in the air so that it landed on the canopy hanging over her bed. She'd deal with it later.

She should do some reading, there was still so much to catch up on.

* * *

Hermione sat in the library, glancing occasionally at her watch. She almost wanted to laugh out loud. Andromeda had been in such a hurry to get away from her. Why would Hermione think… And yet… two hours to curfew. In just about ten minutes...

_Oh, for the love of Pete_. Hermione felt a certain familiar rebellious sensation rise up in her, one Harry tended to coax forward with little more than an urgent look.

_I'm a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors face the music._ She started to pack her things, knowing full well she should be marching off to find McGonagall or the Headmaster, but instead making her way to the castle atrium.

Maybe Andromeda would forget, or simply not want to see her. They'd sort of had an argument?

Hermione thought of how Andromeda had spoken to her in the Pumpkin Patch, before she knew who Hermione was, when she thought the only thing at stake was her family or her good reputation. All of which Andromeda had been willing to risk for her… well for _Jean_.

The early autumn sunset illuminated the entrance hall. It was nearly deserted aside from a few groups of younger students milling about. Two of them stopped talking to watch her a little curiously, a pair of Hufflepuff second years she half recognised. Hermione nodded politely.

If Hermione wanted to stand out in the open hoping that Andromeda would make it for their standing non-appointment, well that was her business. Even if she did feel a bit silly, it had felt so much more reasonable to behave this way when she was anonymous and 'out of time'.

She fidgeted with the strap of her satchel. She had always wondered how Andromeda would find her just as she would want to be found.

Here in her own time she was the subject of some interest, a side effect of everything she'd been through with Harry. Particularly after the events at the Ministry. She felt a pang of regret as she thought of it. Remembering everyone's expressions when they spoke about Sirius, how it had felt. Just awful. After seeing him, young and whole, laughing with his friends at the Gryffindor table. It was like grieving anew to know he was gone.

Hermione glanced at the Hufflepuffs, they were distracted by the Fat Friar who was describing a recipe for treacle fudge to the room at large.

She felt a desire to at least go and stand against the wall, or find somewhere to sit… or just admit she'd been stood up. Or maybe Andromeda was looking for her somewhere else and she should just wait a little longer.

She ended up having that same conversation with herself three more times that week, but Andromeda was in the wind and Adela was out in full force.

* * *

Andromeda loved Potions class, the familiar face of her old head of house was such a comfort. He was still deciding if _Adela_ was worth collecting. She was in the old Slug Club, naturally, as a Black, and a Slytherin, and Bella's sister, but now she was none of that. God being Bella's sister had been such a double edged sword at school. Like being hitched to the back of a rising star on a wagon. Bella had shone so brightly, and so terribly. And what had become of her? Was Mother proud? Did she think Bella was protecting their 'natural station'? Her most favoured daughter, a martyr. Poor, mad Bella.

"Lost in thought again, Mademoiselle?" Slughorn queried as he passed her desk.

"Oh! Pardonne, Your voice eez juste tres charmant, Professor," Andromeda apologised, flattering Slughorn was like a reflex for Slytherins in the seventies. "I 'ad to let ma potion simmer for a time, so I let eet carry me away."

Across the room, a sound of disgust emerged from beneath the frizzy bush of perfect hair that had swallowed Jean.

"Well now, Mademoiselle Boucher, do try to be more careful!" He advised, wagging a chubby finger.

"Of course!" Now that was one problem with the class it tended to make her nostalgic.

She spared an additional glance for Jean. Jean's sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and she was cutting a chameleon tongue into quarter inches so efficiently. She was an efficient person, insightful and fastidious. Jean looked up, and Andromeda pretended to be absorbed in the ingredients list Slughorn had written up on the board.

Andromeda had been conflicted about her place here. Thanks to her new 'seer ability' or whatever it was, Andromeda knew the moment she touched Jean, the girl wasn't hiding some big answer, or coveting a solution. What Andromeda heard in her touch was just one big question, **what are we going to do?**

She just wasn't ready for that conversation, and Jean was so determined to have it.

Andromeda adored Jean, and she knew because she remembered what it had been like to kiss Jean, that the other girl wasn't exactly indifferent to her, but what if this dogged inquiry of hers revealed something about Andromeda that neither of them were prepared for?

What Andromeda suspected could bring the whole world crashing down for a second time... Yet, her eyes were drawn back to Jean's desk like a moth to a flame.

* * *

Ron crouched over Harry's book, trying desperately to decipher the Prince's writing. By the look on his face Hermione could tell he was having limited success.

Harry on the other hand —

"Oh! Harry m'boy, another turn up for the books! You are an absolute marvel."

Harry nodded stiffly in reply, in a way any good friend of his could read as: _please just give me my mark and let this end._

It would've been amusing if it wasn't so frustrating. After the inevitable speech about talent and excellence from Slughorn that nobody asked for, Hermione felt ready to rip her hair out. A considerable undertaking.

Once Slughorn passed Ron's with his usual savage dismissal, and gave Hermione the expected twinkly-eyed silent wink, Ron turned to her in misery.

"Come on, Hermione! There's got to be something you can do for me here. Some handy bit of transfiguration you have locked up in that big ol' brain of yours that can turn this chicken scratch into calligraphy," he pleaded, waving the Prince's illegible book around.

"Are you trying to get the thing demolished?" Harry asked, taking the book out of Ron's hand and tucking it into his bag protectively.

"Honestly, Ronald! It's one thing asking me to spell check your homework, but another thing altogether to ask me to help the two of you cheat."

"It's not cheating, though is it? I still made the potion myself," Harry pointed out automatically, treating the whole conversation as something of a ritual as he filled a vial with his intangibility draft.

"Be careful with that if you get it on your, uhm," Andromeda was staring at her from across the room… "skin, well,". _She's terrible, she even has the staff under her thumb._ Hermione felt a smile tug at her lips unbeknownst to her and she shook her head with something between awe and incredulity.

"Hm?" Harry asked, and flinched as his vial slipped from his grip and landed in his potion with a muted plop.

Andromeda's grin was wicked.

Hermione cleared her throat, "For goodness sake, it's an intangibility potion, if you get it on your skin everything will pass right through it! Where was your precious Prince to tell you that?"

"Where were you to tell him that?" Ron asked, suspicious, he waved a freckled hand in front of her face. "What was that look?" He glanced toward Adela's table, where she sat with her brother and Seamus. "Don't tell me you fancy that French bloke?!"

Hermione pushed his hand down. "Don't be ridiculous, Ronald!" Hermione bit back, failing in her attempt to sound business-like. Huffing, she grabbed the tongs she'd used to fill her own vial and pushed past Ron to fish Harry's out with it. She cast a sidelong glance towards Andromeda, but the girl was kissing Seamus on both cheeks to thank him for the lend of a quill and Hermione nearly lost an eye averting her gaze.

"You and your ruddy foreign exchange students," Ron complained, passing her a cork as she filled his vial.

* * *

Ron was being impossible, it was two days until Quidditch try-outs and Ginny had decided to sit with them which meant Harry was essentially de-commissioned. And she'd brought Lovegood which was just great. She was starting to think fondly of those few meals when Adela had sat with them, before Hermione had _'scared her off'_ , as her friends implied. Truly, she'd been forced to accept they'd hit the mark.

"I can hardly eat," Ron complained, more food stacked on his plate than Hermione's.

She didn't bother to reply, just allowed him to be glum as she read through an old Daily Prophet for mentions of a Prince at Hogwarts. She really should've taken the opportunity in 1971 to attend even one potions class, but of course she had greater concerns than Harry's obsession with his bloody textbook at the time. She was starting to miss it.

"Hermione?" Ron demanded, in a tone that suggested it wasn't for the first time.

"Yes, it's terrible about the margarine in the potatoes, they really should use proper butter," she replied absently, taking a stab in the dark.

"What? No, not that, hold on, what's margarine?" _Oh, right, wizards._

"Forget it, what were you saying?"

"I was saying it's no secret that you like foreign lads, so could you have the courtesy to give us a bit of heads up this time before you start snogging Gustave?" Ron asked, as he cut into a chicken leg.

Why couldn't they have a chat about margarine?

Harry was managing to actually talk to Ginny, so she didn't bother interrupting him to get his support. Unfortunately, in assessing this fact she managed to catch Lovegood's eye.

She tried to act fast as she saw The Quibbler being laid down in her peripheral vision.

"Firstly, Ronald, even if that were true it is absolutely none of you business what I decide —"

Luna took the middle of Hermione's sentence as her cue. "Are you talking about Hugo? Oh he's lovely. Is he your boyfriend? I thought you were done with boys," she mused, her obvious happiness at being included both sweet and infuriating.

"Oi, Loony —" Hermione kicked Ron under the table, he threw her a look "Luna, why don't you…" he seemed to think better of his statement and with great effort grumbled: "Tell us about what you're reading."

Go figure, Lovegood had been a better defense than she could've asked of Harry on his best day.

Ginny, ever Luna's champion, overheard this and beamed at Ron, her pride lighting up her face.

Harry put his elbow in the gravy.

* * *

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you'd never gotten your letter? If you'd just been a Muggle after all?" Hermione asked Harry as they toasted their feet by the common room fire.

Harry looked at her, his expression heart-breaking. He rubbed his scar absently. "Hermione, I was an orphan living in a cupboard. It might sound mad but I would take Voldemort and a family over no Voldemort and no family every time," he told her, half-smiling.

She reached across the space between their two over-stuffed arm chairs and put her hand on his forearm, squeezing. He lowered his free hand from his scar and placed it over hers. "One day, Harry, you'll have a family and no Voldemort, I promise."

"Do you ever miss orange juice?" He asked, lifting his hand from hers and leaning back in his chair.

She laughed lightly. "God, so much, pumpkin juice? I mean where do they get this rubbish."

He laughed in turn and that excellent, warm silence of two good friends fell between them. Perhaps even something beyond that, of family. She wanted so badly to tell him about everything that was going on, her decision not to do so thus far filling her with a painful separateness.

Harry trusted her and Ron with everything, even Dumbledore allowed him to. Just so that Harry wouldn't have to go through it alone.

She _would_ tell him, she decided. But not yet, he had enough on his plate. If she wanted to go through this with someone, she should be going through it with Andromeda. The person who she should've been talking to all along.

Surely, however stubborn and Pureblood and Slytherin Andromeda was being about all of this, she needed it just as much.


	7. Pandora

_"Dear Sirius,_

_I am not worried about impressing anyone or winning them over, because all of the people I wanted to make proud, including you, well they're not here anymore. Or in Mother's case, they don't know I exist. Here, in this time, we're a pair of runaways, or we were. I once found a bundle of my letters to you saved in your room. One of them was even stuck on the wall, next to a Muggle bike you had pinned up. It was the letter where I said we should get matching tattoos. I just wish you were here._

_I used to write to you, to tell you to take care of yourself, because I wanted to take care of you. Who will take care of you now? I'm so sorry I'm too late—"_ A knock on the door startled Andromeda and she put down her quill, turning swiftly to face the source of the noise.

"Adela?" Came Hugo's voice.

She scrambled to shove the letter in a disillusioned box with the others, swallowing her misery. "Qu'Est-ce que c'est?" she called, hardly needing the elevating effects of the interpretation charm. Her childhood french was back in full force. [What is it?]

"Il y a une fille à la porte, le préfet," he told her, she could hear it in his tone that he hated having to speak to her through a door. [There is a girl at the door, the prefect]

She smoothed the back of her blue skirt as she stood, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror. She half-hated how unaffected she looked. It never sat well with her that a human face could hide pain so well.

She pulled the door open and Hugo stood there, arms folded. "Alors, tu vas lui parler?" He asked, casting a glance behind him to Jean standing in the door, peering around the tapestry. [So, you will talk to her?]

Andromeda gave him a helpless look. "J'ai sa plume," Andromeda explained, pulling her wand from her pocket to summon a quill from her desk. [I have her quill]

"C'est à moi," he pointed out, shaking his head. He grinned his easy grin, reached up and tousled her hair. "Ne vous en faites pas. Continue, donne-le lui," he said, shrugging. He stepped out of Andromeda's way and walked back towards his room. "She is 'opeless," he told Jean as he passed her, and the girl smiled politely. [This is mine] [Dont worry. Go on, give it to her.]

Andromeda looked after him. When his door closed, she crossed the room to the door. He had changed tack, simply pretending nothing was wrong. Or maybe he was just in a good mood. She really did like him, it was nice having someone looking out for her. Even if it wasn't really her he was trying to take care of.

"Jean," Andromeda said, and it came out like a warning.

"Walk with me," Jean said, ringing her hands on the strap of her satchel.

Andromeda said nothing, held out the quill. She was just so stressed, she wanted to just return to her room and escape for a little longer. Stare out over the Hogwarts wall and pretend this wasn't happening.

Jean took Andromeda's hand, and held it, letting the quill get tangled between their fingers.

Andromeda knew from this touch that Jean had changed tack to.

"You don't think I can handle this alone," Andromeda said, trying to put words to this sensation she could read in the Gryffindor with her new ability.

Jean tugged Andromeda forward. "I'm afraid you won't let me help you," she rephrased, and Andromeda knew that was the truth. Jean glanced at Hugo's bedroom door, and then behind her into the hall. "Walk with me," Jean repeated, and she had this look in her dark eyes. Something so sincere and magnetic. Stupidly noble, and courageous.

"Aren't you tired?" Andromeda asked, taking her hand away from Jean and leaning against the door frame. Undecided as to which side she intended to be on when she closed it.

"Don't kid around, Andromeda, I know how lonely it is to be, to be out of time. You think it wouldn't help to at least talk to someone who understands?" Jean asked, looking like she wanted to stomp her feet with frustration.

Andromeda thought of the box of letters in her room, with no one to send them to, she ran the feather of the quill through her fingers. Did she really know Jean at all? Or was it just this infatuation that made Andromeda feel so close to her?

"You're a good person, I know that. And I'm obviously fond of you Jean, I mean... you've been kind to me, but this, this isn't your fault. I'm not your responsibility. Please don't feel that you have to—"

Jean took Andromeda's face in her hands and kissed her. Fiery and determined and smelling of coconut. When they broke apart Andromeda was gratified to note that Jean didn't glance around or check for witnesses. She only looked at her. Jean, her bushy-haired dream girl.

"I care about you, I can see that you're suffering, please just come with me," Jean said, and Andromeda felt something rise up in her. That tenacity that used to pull her out of bed and into trouble every day of her life.

A hefty dose of _how could I refuse_. She grinned at Jean. "Bloody Gryffindor," Andromeda chastised, throwing the quill over her shoulder and slamming the door behind her. The tapestry slid back into place behind her.

Jean's took a step back, almost like she hadn't expected this to work. Then in a move reminiscent of those early days, she turned and led the way up the corridor.

* * *

They walked together through the castle, enough distance between them that at a glance they might just be walking in the same direction. The atmosphere between them buzzing with as much _what are we doing?_ as ever. Only now, for a whole new host of crazy reasons. Hermione wanted to break the silence between them, but she was waiting for an opportunity, for some solitude.

Eventually they found it at the central tower courtyard. It pained Hermione slightly, this was where Sirius had staged his marvelous escape with Buckbeak in her third year.

Andromeda blew some warm air into her hands, the courtyard was empty for a reason, there was a chilly bite in the air.

Hermione walked around the fountain and reached behind a sturdy pergola to retrieve her stashed mason jar. She waved her wand and summoned her favoured bluebell flame with a murmured incantation. Satisfied, she held it out toward Andromeda.

"It'll warm you up," Hermione said, and her voice was a little too quiet. She cleared her throat. "It's warm," she repeated.

Andromeda approached Hermione, her movements measured.

"Merci," she said, not without irony. She took the jar of dancing flame and held it close. Her expression was at once warm and withholding. "I can see why you were in such a rush to get back here, Jean, you have a really good life. Everyone adores you, you're so clever, and gorgeous, and to be honest I read about you before I even arrived here."

With this admission, Hermione felt she should make one of her own. It seemed to work with Andromeda, honesty for honesty, typical Slytherin carry on but if it worked. "I've been waiting for you to come find me, you know. I probably should've just come looking for you sooner. Fair since in your time you always came for me."

They made their way to a stone bench and sat down. Hermione was torn between casting a disillusionment charm over them and just wanting to look at Andromeda. What she could see of her through the glamour.

They both turned to watch a crow bathe in the fountain at the centre of the courtyard. Throwing the clear water over its back and ruffling its feathers.

"I wanted to thank you," Hermione said at length. Letting her shoulder press against Andromeda's, but not fully leaning into her.

"For stressing you out?" Andromeda asked, her voice just above a whisper.

"No, no the opposite." Hermione shook her head. "I never meant to go back in time… At least not on this occasion." Hermione paused and stared out across the courtyard for a beat. Imagining Sirius saying his goodbye, filling Harry so full of hope. "It was an accident, and I was so afraid to ruin the future, to change things. And I was so lonely. You were there for me." She turned to look at Andromeda, marvelling at how she ever recognised her with this new face. "Really, thank you," she said, trying to really impress her sincerity on the phrase.

Andromeda's gaze was intense. "I don't know why I want to kiss you again, considering last time I did you took the world with you," she said.

Hermione wondered the same thing. "Y-you said that before, that the night we kissed was the last night on earth. Andromeda, what does that mean?"

"Tell me, how do you accidentally travel in time?" Andromeda asked, examining the enchanted flame in her lap. "You don't seem like the magical mishap type."

Hermione chewed her lip, feeling slightly apprehensive about revealing this to Andromeda, not fully understanding the implications… But having some disturbing suspicions. Yet, here they sat, in the certain light of day. _Surely not._

"It was a boggart," Hermione confessed, her tone apologetic. She saw it in Andromeda's face as soon as she said the word. "There was a device the Ministry developed that allowed a person to travel in time, a Time Turner, but they're all destroyed now. They were destroyed before I went back this time, but I was afraid of Time Turners I guess. And there was a boggart, a strong one, and because of my fear it had a Time Turner, and that's what sent me back, back to the seventies, to you.."

Andromeda looked absolutely green. "We were laughing in the pumpkin patch when you, when you disappeared," she said, nodding in understanding.

Hermione wanted desperately to ask what happened next, Andromeda had hinted of course.

"Before the world ended," Hermione prompted. To think, She, Harry, and Ron were supposed to be gearing up for a final battle with Voldemort. She was essentially a junior member of the Order, and now she was caught up with all of this. And poor Andromeda, separated from everything familiar. She took Andromeda's hand in hers, and Andromeda hardly seemed to notice.

"I read about the Time Turners all being destroyed, do you think it's true?" Ignoring this particular leading question and asking one she must know Hermione couldn't resist. A practical one.

"I don't know. You've been researching how to get back?" Hermione asked.

Andromeda shot her a quick, loaded look, and then simply answered: "Yes."

Hermione tried not to ask, but before she could stop herself: "You really came here accidentally?"

Andromeda heaved a sigh, and suddenly they were nose to nose. "Maybe we should head down to the pumpkin patch," Andromeda said, and pecked Hermione on the lips, it stole her breath. Andromeda's hand slipping behind Hermione's neck. "And maybe I'll get sent home, and you can finally see what happens after I leave." Andromeda kissed her then with a determined pressure, a little carefully at first, but then not at all.

They throw caution to the wind with a sweep of tongue over tongue and hand over thigh. Andromeda tugged her closer and made an excellent noise at the contact. Hermione thought maybe she should slow it down, but Andromeda kissed her so deeply, for the first time, and Hermione more than let her. Sort of whimpered if anything.

And the closest thing to a practical thought Hermione had was moving the jar out of Andromeda's lap before she crawled into its place.

* * *

Andromeda slept better that night than she had since arriving. In the days that followed, she felt like she'd taken Felix Felicis. She could spend as much time with Jean as she liked without fear of some unwanted conversation. Now that she knew how, it was all too easy to reclaim the situation, Andromeda had nearly made a bet with herself over how many broom closets she could invite Jean into before the girl would come to her senses.

If Jean got too close to the painful truths Andromeda was working so hard to avoid, even in her own mind, she just took it as an invitation to snog.

She felt her stress melt away with every sigh she pulled from Jean, and for once she wasn't worried about what was behind or ahead. It was all just time between kisses.

Gryffindor Quidditch practice was usually a great window to catch Jean alone, after a cursory check of the girls usual haunts Andromeda made her way to Gryffindor tower. Seamus Finnegan was just ahead of her on the staircase, and she smiled. _Adela_ could easily secure an invitation into the Tower from Seamus under the guise of needing help with potions homework.

* * *

"I 'ope eet eez okay for me to impoze like thees, Seamus. I am nevair quick enough to write down zee assignment vith ma english," Andromeda invented as she scanned the common room for Jean's distinctive afro. Andromeda had never imagined it would be so subdued, but a Gryffindor had just been cursed in Hogsmeade the week before.

Jean was there, tucked away in a corner. She was knitting one of her bizarre little elf hats, and a book lay open in her lap turning its own pages. She was just so bloody _Jean_. It made Andromeda sort of happy and aroused at once.

Seamus chatted amiably as he passed her the parchment with his notes on the assignment, and Andromeda accepted it with a flourish trying to draw Jean's attention.

"You are too kind," she told him, kissing his cheek. "Geminio," she cast, throwing another sidelong glance at Jean.

Well now she had her attention. Andromeda grinned broadly.

"Excuse me, I will take thees straight to zee library. Merci, Seamus," Andromeda beamed, sure that Jean would follow her in a charming little role reversal.

Their relationship had to be secret, of course. Andromeda had a duty to maintain her cousin Adela's good standing with her traditional family, and strange as it was for Andromeda to think about, _Hermione_ was in the public eye. Andromeda now knew why Jean was so mysterious, naturally, but seeing her openly draw attention to herself as a Gryffindor crusader was still surprising. She was like a modern day Alice Fortescue.

Andromeda made her way to the library, looking forward to seeing Jean so she could stop thinking about her. To stop thinking about anything really.

Andromeda didn't know if Jean felt conflicted about having an affair with another girl. In her own time of 1971 the implications had driven Andromeda spare. Now, however, she had no family left to let down. As long as Hugo wasn't suspicious she was sort of free. Not that she wouldn't rather have Sirius, but _not thinking about it_. She was free.

She stepped into the library and began to stroll up and down the stacks, checking desks Jean preferred in case the Gryffindor had found a lucky staircase and beat her there.

Jean gave the impression that her major concern was about the importance of preserving the natural timeline. 'Terrible things happen to those who meddle with time', and all that. Maybe Jean was comforting herself with the fact that no matter what additional things occurred, Andromeda's memory would need to be modified before she could return to 1971 regardless.

But Andromeda felt in her heart that she wasn't going back. _Not thinking about it._

God, would she ever arrive so Andromeda could fully clear her head.

"Did you miss me, or something?" Jean asked Andromeda quietly, sitting on a bench beneath a stain-glass image of Queen Niamh of Tír na nÓg.

Andromeda took a seat next to her, resting back against the cool glass of the window. She could hear song birds just beyond. "I did, actually," Andromeda admits.

Jean turns her head and tilts it so that her hair is pressed into the glass.

They look at each other and share a secret smile.

Jean ran her foot up the back of Andromeda's calf and her expression became effortlessly seductive.

"I was thinking of you the whole time," Jean confessed seriously.

"You can be quite sexy when you want to be, you know that?" Andromeda told her, and it wasn't really a question. More a plea for her to continue.

Jean lifted her foot away and tipped herself back a bit. "You don't like it?"

"I didn't say that," Andromeda mumbled, sparing a glance down the nearest row of shelves to confirm they were alone. There were some Ravenclaw's there, but they were searching the stacks rather single mindedly, each with a list of books in hand.

"Well, alright then," Jean replied, and slipped her foot back against Andromeda's leg and placed a graceful brown hand palm up on her thigh. Andromeda took Jean's hand.

"You shouldn't do that," Andromeda advised, still smiling.

"I'm sorry, I'll stop," Jean said, and it was hard to tell how serious she was.

"I didn't say stop!" Andromeda laughed quietly.

"Generally, if there's something I shouldn't do, I won't do it, you know?" Jean asked, and looked at Andromeda rather seriously. Running a finger up Andromeda's forearm.

Amazingly the other library goers appeared totally oblivious. Very much engaged in their search, levitating piles of books in their wake.

"I know." Andromeda sighs, "although I've seen you cut loose a bit since I met you," she holds up their joint hands. "You're practically a nympho now, compared to when I had to chase you through the halls."

Jean was looking at Andromeda's mouth. "You're right, I'm a maniac."

"I'd really like to kiss you right now," Andromeda told her.

Jean looked up to Andromeda's eyes, as if she'd been caught. Then Jean grinned slowly and lasciviously. It was a complete performance but it still made Andromeda's toes curl.

"Well, if it were just the two of us I'd let you, but it might take a bit of an explanation for the audience here to grasp our history," Jean said.

"I know that, that's why I'm telling you. If there was no one else here I'd have just kissed you," Andromeda clarified.

"You smug git," Jean sighed, and glanced at the Ravenclaws who were a little further away but still very visible. "Well, it seems we're at an impasse then," Jean conceded.

"Jean, do you want to go and complete an emergency cleaning supply inventory check with me?" Andromeda asked, unspeakably horny.

"Won't Filch be around in the middle of the evening, doing real cleaning?"

"I don't know, I could check," Andromeda insisted, Jean's fingers still running up and down her arm.

* * *

Hermione knew there was no use pretending that she wasn't going to find a way to kiss Andromeda at the first opportunity. Andromeda had certainly resolved to kiss her.

"Is it raining?" Hermione asked, and the contemplation was total theatre.

"I'll summon a tent, whatever you like."

Hermione found herself looking at Andromeda's petal pink lips again.

"Let's get out of here," Hermione whispered, more urgently than she meant to but she was passed caring.


	8. In Flagrante

Andromeda stood to the side in a Defense Against the Dark Arts class, the drapes drawn and the new head of Slytherin House droning on about how useless Jean and her friends were. Jean had asked her if she recognised the man, he was in Slytherin house when Andromeda was at Hogwarts supposedly, but she didn't remember seeing him at any functions outside of school. He mustn't be a Pureblood.

The class had been paired off to practice as was pretty common, and when Harry happened to turn to Jean, Professor Snape had seized the opportunity to torment Ron.

"A rudimentary nonverbal deflection shouldn't be beyond you, Weasley, even Longbottom has managed to perform it with some success," the Professor sneered, casting a second stinging hex at the irate boy.

Ron's ears were pink enough to clash brilliantly with his orange hair. There was no way he was going to do any decent magic when he was so emotional. Honestly, Gryffindors. Andromeda met Hugo's eye and shook her head at the disruption.

He shrugged and assumed the position to carry on with their spellwork. She cast a jelly legs jinx as easily as she would a levitation spell. She may not have Bella's power, but thanks to the private tutors Andromeda had trained with, lessons like these were child's play.

During her first week Andromeda was given a temporary schedule so she could choose which classes she preferred. Defense had been an easy choice. The dire atmosphere in the class may have been dire, but it suited Andromeda that no one chatted. This meant she could spend quality time with Hugo without having to have a conversation. They just paired up and performed some non-verbal magic back and forth and she could feel the tension ease between them each time. And of course, annoyed as she was with Jean upon first arriving, she had taken some satisfaction in disrupting the girl's schedule by matching their time tables.

Now that they were done avoiding each other and were growing closer, Andromeda was glad to have an excuse to be near her beloved non-Hufflepuff.

"Got something to say, Potter?" Professor Snape asked, turning his attention to the green-eyed boy who had clearly been the target of his malice all along.

Was it wrong for Andromeda to quietly root for Harry Potter to land himself in another detention so she could have Jean to herself at some point this week?

Jean and Weasley were arguing over a misunderstanding at the last Quidditch match, so if Potter was off being a boy wonder or getting in trouble for acting out due to boy wonder pressures, generally Jean was available.

Jean stood behind Harry, looking nonplussed at the inevitable altercation between the bespectacled boy and the bat-like professor.

"I'm not sure you want to hear my opinion, Professor," Harry replied, squaring up.

Andromeda felt a little bad for cheering inwardly at Harry's unchecked temper. She deflected a hex from Hugo, turning in a flutter of blue silk to retaliate. Although she wasn't truly Hugo's twin, she did feel a kinship with him. Particularly in moments like these where she could sort of be herself. The only sound in the room other than the banal conversation was the shuffling of the students as they dueled with mixed results. Occasionally grunting as they got knocked on their arse.

"My, my, how well-reasoned. Truly, does the depth of your self-awareness know no bounds?" Snape sneered, like a childhood bully. Andromeda wished she could hurry the process up.

Harry was about to open his mouth to retort when the unthinkable happened. _Jean_ made a sound.

It carried through the chamber, and Andromeda glanced over in time to see Snape glare at Jean with grim satisfaction.

From Jean's expression you could tell she hadn't meant it to be audible, but it most certainly had been. Jean had scoffed and not used to having an excuse to needle Harry from this particular angle, Snape was elated.

"Ah, appears to think she is above it all, hm? Potter, work with Weasley. You two imbeciles are better matched," he drawled, adjusting the sleeve of his robes. "Now, since you seem to take issue with my methods as an educator, why don't you demonstrate your superiority as you are so clearly pining to do?" Snape asked Jean.

Jean pressed her dark lips together and she raised her wand without a word. Her eyes were practically spitting sparks.

He began, and she deflected gracefully, firing back in a flash.

She was fast, but he was faster.

His hex would've landed if she hadn't physically ducked and thrown a jinx in reply.

It was only due to sheer hubris on his part that the spell landed, his wand flew into the air. He hadn't expected her to chance a Muggle move, but to challenge it would be to admit that he'd engaged a student in a wizard's duel.

He bared his teeth.

Jean caught his wand.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape spat.

Andromeda almost wanted to laugh, and then with a wily smile she allowed herself to.

Her bubble of laughter echoed through the room, and for good measure she added: "Oohlala! Because she eez better zan you?"

Hugo looked stopped short, and looked totally baffled.

The shuffling of people trying to carry on with the lesson despite their Professors open vendetta with the Gryffindors was interrupted. Heads turned to her, a beacon of pale blue in the dull classroom.

Snape rounded on Andromeda and took a long breath through his hooked nose: "For failing to follow the basic instruction I gave at the beginning of the class, Ms. Boucher. Is Expelliarmus a hex, or a jinx? No. Did I not specify that we would be practicing the nonverbal use and defense of hexes and jinxes in this class? I did. But since I cannot take points from your house for your evident failure to grasp such _basic_ details, I will simply have to assign you a detention."

Andromeda gasped falsely, but didn't bother to stage a full protest, trying to express with her silence that she'd thought better of it. Jean stood behind Snape and Andromeda resisted the urge to wink at her. She looked at her though, absolutely on purpose, and then made a show of bowing her head in contrition.

Jean rolled her eyes almost imperceptibly, before turning to Harry with a look warning him not to say another word.

"And can join you." Snape turned to glare at Jean. "It'll take more than one of you to clean up the mess Peeves made in the astronomy tower."

_Victory!_

* * *

Harry sat at dinner with Hermione on his left and Ron on his right. The two were still at odds. At least Harry didn't have to maintain a conversation with them both at once, as Ron's tongue was bet into Lavender Brown's mouth and she was doing her best to voice her approval in the form of some frightening gagging noises.

"I never thought I'd miss the sound of Ronald chewing," Hermione complained, glancing over Harry's shoulder and looking genuinely green.

Harry was nodding in agreement without full awareness of his actions, he put down his fork in resignation and opted to pick apart a dry roll. Grasping for any topic to distract from the slurping noises, he noticed Hermione watching the exchange students. "That was strange in Defense," he said, and followed her gaze to where Adela and Hugo were sitting.

After Hemione's initial frosty reception of Adela, the girl hadn't sat with them again. Yet today, she'd come to her defense. Not to make it about him, but Snape laid into him every day and the french girl hadn't said a word.

"Hm?" Hermione asked, "Oh, yeah. I can't believe I lost House points, thank goodness you won your Quidditch match."

He elbowed her. "Come off it! You picked up fifteen points in Herbology right after," Harry said, almost considering serving himself a bowl of soup before the thought was interrupted by a wet smack.

Hermione looked pleased at the compliment and shrugged, her mouth full.

Harry continued: "I didn't mean that though, of course Snape will find an excuse to take points. I meant Adela, have you two been talking or something?"

Hermione swallowed her food and coughed a little. Waving her hand apologetically she took a sip of water. "Wrong pipe." She put her hand over her chest and took a breath. "So, what will you do while I'm in detention?" She asked.

Harry winced when Lavender's groping hand momentarily tapped his shoulder in her search for the back of Ron's head. He almost admired their sheer lack of shame, and Ron restraining himself from breaking the kiss for an occasional bite of baked beans.

Perhaps Lavender had had a talk with him.

"Reckon I'll catch up on my Transfiguration essay," Harry mused, sparing a glance for the Slytherin table to see if Malfoy was where he left him.

"You're going to obsess over Draco, aren't you?" Hermione asked.

"Mm-hmm," Harry hummed agreeably. He was only half-listening, he'd spotted Draco sat with a bored expression and he was _reading_ something off of a piece of parchment. What was he reading?

* * *

Hermione thought about her conversation with Harry as Snape made a long speech about her and _Adela's_ joint incompetence to kick off their detention. They stood in a mess of wet, wadded up paper left by Peeves. It was the kind of lifetime supply of papier maché that only a poltergeist could produce.

She knew from experience that it could take Harry a while to cotton on to something unrelated to You-Know-Who… well, to Voldemort, but she always ended up telling him in the end. The Time Turner and Lupin's lycanthropy in third year, Victor in fourth; she couldn't keep a secret from Harry.

Still, how could she explain all this? Not to mention, it wasn't just her secret to tell.

"And of course, there will be no magic allowed, so if you'll just hand over your wands. You may come and collect them once you're done," Snape told them, in full awareness that it would take them right up to curfew.

Once he was gone, Hermione turned to see Andromeda looking way too pleased with herself under her pretty blue hat.

"Alone at last," Andromeda said, and took Hermione's hand, pulling her close.

"Don't you think we could've come up with a better excuse to spend time together than this?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the mess they had to clean up with nothing but sacks and shovels.

"Ah, my precious Gryffindor Princess, so pure of heart," Andromeda replied. "Don't tell me you only brought one wand to detention?" She pulled a wand from her pocket.

Hermione felt her face fall with surprise momentarily, but quickly recovered so as not to encourage Andromeda to be completely unbearable. "He'll be able to tell," Hermione observed.

"Only if I do too good of a job!" Andromeda replied, and with a wave of her wand the two shovels became animated and the sacks followed them from soggy pile to soggy pile. Andromeda slipped the wand back into her robes and turned to Hermione, catching her at the waste, and dipping her slightly for a kiss. "Perks of dating a Slytherin," Andromeda mumbled against her mouth, and Hermione could feel that wicked grin.

Hermione tipped herself upwards, a little breathless and laughed. "So, we're dating are we?" She asked, and then the laugh left her at Andromeda's expression.

"Let's go look at the view," Andromeda said, and she led Hermione by the hand.

"You don't want to talk about it?" Hermione asked, leaning against the railing of the astronomy tower, to watch Andromeda's neat spell work in action. She was a talented witch. Hermione found competence very attractive.

Suddenly, Andromeda was the only thing in her line of vision, hand on either side of Hermione, barring her against the railing. "It's difficult for me to say any of this out loud," Andromeda replied. "It's like I have two minds about everything. The way I was raised, versus the way I am."

"You and Sirius had that in common," Hermione said sadly, her expression soft.

Andromeda looked down, her eyes fixed on Hermione's tie. A gentle wind rustled around the tower, and Hermione saw a tear darken the silk of Andromeda's uniform. Just one, she tipped her head back and blinked against it.

Hermione reached up and rubbed the tear track away.

"Didn't work out so great for him, did it?" Andromeda asked, clearing her throat. "Merlin, I always cry around you, Jean. My Mother would string me up if she saw me so ill-composed."

"You're under a lot of stress… Look, if you ever need help with your research. You don't have to go through this alone."

"Jean," Andromeda laughed, and her glamour made it hard to tell she'd been crying a moment before. She kissed Hermione's nose. "Are you coming on to me?"

"I have a lot of thoughts, actually," Hermione said, trying to think logically and knowing that even when it came to the strangest magic it helped to be methodical. Although, it was hard to take that approach when Andromeda was being so unco-operative. "I just need more information to help you get home, I still don't even know how long you've been in this time." Andromeda kissed Hermione's top lip even as she was talking. "Rather marvelous that you arrived at Hogwarts the morning after I returned," Hermione continued.

"You are driving me crazy. I'm starting to wonder if you bring this stuff up because you like being more hickey than woman," Andromeda replied, burying her face against Hermione's ear, she started to kiss just below it, her pale hand slipping over Hermione's dark thigh. This was Andromeda's new pursuit, seeing how far she could ruck up Hermione's skirt.

"Jesus Christ," Hermione said, and reached down to catch Andromeda's hand on it's journey.

"Mmmm, I love those Muggle swears. That one _Mary Mother of God_ , is my favourite."

Andromeda left her hand beneath Hermione's grip, her thumb reaching up higher and finding the hem of Hermione's knickers. Just barely brushing the elastic.

"Anyone could walk in!" Hermione complained.

Andromeda groaned, and kissed her fully, her other hand screwed up in the fabric of Hermione's shirt, untucking slightly at the back. She quickly found Hermione's skin.

God, Andromeda was sexy, and so good and turned on. Clearly delighted to have her hands under Hermione's shirt. More chuffed than ever to push the back up and feel the skin stretched thin over Hermione's spine. She pressed her fingers hard into the muscles in Hermione's knotted back and they gave under the pressure with a delicious ache.

In the barrage of sensations Hermione almost forgot to move. She had to remind herself over and over, leading to stuttering reactions in answer to Andromeda's ebb and flow. Hermione knew that it was obvious that she was flustered and that she liked it.

Andromeda pressed into her, followed her lead, took it and gave it back. Over and over.

Hermione spent a lot of her time trying to maintain what little control she could over these situations, but she felt her resolve starting to give way. She had to draw a line somewhere. She trailed a free hand down over Andromeda's stomach.

The other girl caught Hermione's wrist and guided it down, between her slim, white legs. Hermione had drawn a hardline around the area however, so she moved her hand to the side and pulled Andromeda closer by her hip.

Not missing a beat, Andromeda's hand found its way under Hermione's jaw, thumb warm against her chin in the October air.

They didn't break to talk, just moved against each other desperately.

Andromeda slid her knee between Hermione's legs and pulled the Gryffindor against her thigh, tongue licking into Hermione's mouth.

She was merciless.

The bang of the door being opened with enough force for it to bang off the far wall behind it echoed across the Tower platform and the girls gasped against each other's mouths.

Before she really knew what she was doing, Hermione was standing between Andromeda and the entrance. Without a second thought she'd drawn Andromeda's wand drawn from the other girl's pocket.

Ron, and Ginny thundered in, wands also at the ready, Harry leading the charge, bloody Marauders Map in hand.

"She's an impostor!" Harry blurted, blushing scarlet at the scene he'd just interrupted, but barreling forward nonetheless.

In Hermione's peripheral vision, Andromeda was draped back against the railing, fanning herself with her hat.

"Sacre bleu!" Andromeda exclaimed, without much conviction. _Bloody Slytherin._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


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